


Dirty Harry (Schtung Chinese New Year Remix)

by mickeylover303



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, JRPG - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2019-11-26 14:51:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeylover303/pseuds/mickeylover303
Summary: Companion fics to Dirty Harry.  Random Space AU.





	1. Close the White Book

**Author's Note:**

> So...yeah, I guess I really am doing this. The next part (or arc, I should say?), Clint Eastwood, please don’t expect it any time soon. Again, I can’t definitively say what’s going to happen on that front. What I’ve already done with it, I need to go through that and organise things, as well as go back through DH, because I know I still need to fix a lot of stuff.
> 
> In the meantime, though, while I’m trying to sort the mess that is my writing, I’ll use this as a placeholder for anything that may come up, as I’m working on CE, to sort of help me better flush out this universe, instead of having random flashbacks obstruct any attempts to write plot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Naruto and Sasuke reach a turning point in their lives, Naruto tries to deal with conflicting emotions, and Sasuke's life magic makes an appearance.

**I. Close the White Book**

 

 

“You can come in, Naruto.  You don’t have to knock.”

 

Naruto pauses, stood in the middle of the threshold to Sasuke’s room, hand made into a fist midair, stilled before he can knock on the doorframe. 

 

Right.

 

Sasuke being able to sense him, he hasn’t forgotten about that, but it doesn’t mean he wanted to barge into Sasuke’s space, especially with how Sasuke’s been since what happened at Yuna.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Naruto drops his arm, taking the words as permission to enter.  When he walks in, Sasuke’s sitting on the carpeted floor, legs folded, back propped against the side of a large platform bed, eyes trained on the PCD in his lap.

 

“I thought you were training with Kakashi,” he says, a little distracted, brow furrowed down at his PCD, with a quick swipe of his finger, scrolling down blocks of text displayed on the screen.

 

“I am.  Or, I mean, I was.”  Stopping in front of Sasuke, Naruto blinks, scratching the back of his head.  “I already said I was going to come by to see you, remember.  Orientation starts tomorrow, so I thought…”

 

Sasuke gives a soft hum, not exactly brushing Naruto off, but he still hasn’t looked away from his PCD, still hasn’t looked up to acknowledge him.

 

It’s not like he was expecting Sasuke to be waiting for him, or that Sasuke would run up to welcome him back or anything.  They aren’t the same kids anymore.  Any way he looks at it, really, things just aren’t the same.  They can’t be.  Even he recognises that, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he doesn’t want to think about how off things have been between them lately, an unspoken distance that has nothing to do with age.

 

Ever since he got accepted into the Academy, brought that much closer to their shared dream Sasuke can no longer follow, more and more, it just feels like they’re drifting apart.

 

With a quiet sigh, he plops himself down beside Sasuke, sitting shoulder to shoulder, close enough to touch.

 

He extends his legs, flexing sock-clad feet, stretching out muscles that are probably going to be sore for a few days; while he appreciates being able to have private sessions with someone like Kakashi, for a guy who seems so laidback about everything, when it comes to training, he’s ridiculously intense.

 

_"You may only be thirteen, Naruto, but don’t expect me not to push someone like you beyond your limits."_

 

“So, I’ve been thinking—”

 

Sasuke snorts.

 

At least that gets him some kind of reaction, less detached, putting Naruto in familiar territory, the usual teasing from Sasuke he can work with.

 

“Go ahead.  Keep making fun of your elders, and see where that gets you in life.”

 

“Yes, Naruto,” Sasuke says, with the barest hint of a smile, drawing out each syllable of Naruto’s name.

 

Naruto gives Sasuke a playful bump to the shoulder, allows himself to smile a little, too.

 

“Anyway,” he says, “what I was saying before, you never told me.”

 

Sasuke looks up from his PCD.  “Told you what?”

 

“Knowing how your magic gets, how come you’ve never tried to heal these?”  Naruto points to the right side of his face, finger laid over one of three thin horizontal marks spread across his cheek.

 

Gloved hands carefully place the PCD on the floor, and Sasuke turns to give his full attention to Naruto.  “Is there a reason you’re asking?”

 

“Nothing specific.”  Naruto gives a half shrug.  “Just wondering, I guess.  You don’t talk about your magic as much anymore.  Not like you used to.”

 

 _You don’t talk to me_ , are the words left unsaid.

 

Sasuke looks down, the corner of his bottom lip caught behind his teeth, soon slipped.  One at a time, he rolls down the sleeves of his jacket, slowly, cautiously, pulling the cuffs over the back of each hand, fingers disappearing beneath the thick, ribbed material.

 

It’s not that cool in Sasuke’s room, even with how hot it is outside, but Sasuke looks like he’s dressed for the middle of September, instead of the middle of June.

 

“...I don’t think there’s anything left to talk about,” he says, letting his hands fall over his lap. 

 

His chest rises, falls with a sigh, as he raises his gaze to meet Naruto’s, no expression on his face Naruto can read.  “It’s just something I’m going to have to deal with, isn’t it.”

 

The calm tone, Sasuke’s whole body language, it bothers Naruto as much as it frustrates him, because this isn’t something he has to the power to make okay, not anymore, not like he used to.

 

It still doesn’t stop him from trying.

 

“Somehow, you keep forgetting the fact I’m going to have to deal with your magic, too,” he says.  “You know.  Since I have the cranky guy upstairs, and you’re the only other person who can actually talk to him.  Not to mention, how weird he gets about your life magic.”

 

“As weird as he is about calling me names,” Sasuke says, dry, but he releases his grip on the cuffs of his sleeves, lets them fall back to his wrists.  Sitting up, he moves to lean forward, placing a hand over Naruto’s knee, as he stares into Naruto’s eyes, seems to stare right through him.  “Is that why you’re asking about my magic, because of Kyuubi?”

 

Having found Sasuke like this, holed up in his room, studying on his PCD, it’s probably as close to moping as Sasuke will ever get, yet even then, it’s not enough to overcome Sasuke’s own curious nature.

 

It’s already gotten him in all sorts of trouble, because it makes him the reckless kind of distracted, makes him pay absolutely no attention whatsoever to his own wellbeing, which usually ends up with Naruto chasing after him, more worried than someone his age has any right to be, trying to fix whatever Sasuke did to himself, frantically trying to make sure Sasuke stays in one piece.

 

So the sudden interest in Kyuubi, that’s not really surprising, but the underlying concern in Sasuke’s voice, that surprises even Naruto a little.  It surprises Kyuubi, too, not exactly welcomed, although this time Kyuubi’s not openly complaining about whatever attraction that keeps drawing him to Sasuke, making him a stronger presence in the back of Naruto’s mind, which does seem to end up happening a lot more often whenever Sasuke’s around.

 

“Some of it’s because of Kyuubi, yeah,” Naruto admits.  “I just didn’t start thinking about what they could mean until recently, only after you met him, and he....”

 

“Oh.”  Sasuke starts to draw back a little, removing his hand from Naruto’s knee, but he stays close, focused on the faint lines of raised skin along Naruto’s left cheek.  “Haven’t you always had them, though?”

 

“Yeah, they’re sort of like birthmarks.  Or at least that’s what Mom and Dad say.  Except they do kind of feel like scars?  I mean, as much as you’ve already used your magic to heal me, I was just wondering, shouldn’t you be able to heal those kinds of things, too?”

 

“Scars?  Yeah, probably.  In theory, I don’t see why I wouldn’t be able to, but I guess the reason why my magic never healed yours, is because my magic doesn’t see anything wrong with them.  Then again, it’s not like I’ve ever intentionally tried to do something like that before.”

 

“Notice, this isn’t me suggesting you try something like that,” Naruto makes sure to point out.  “This is just me trying to be helpful.  I know there’s not a lot out there about life users, especially all the stuff that goes on with your empathy, but if this is something else that has to do with Kyuubi, something that might help you understand your magic a little better, I just thought…”

 

There’s the smallest upturn at the corner of Sasuke’s mouth, this tiny, little uncertain smile that quickly falls away.  Eyes slightly narrowed, absently, he begins to take off his left glove, again leaning closer, despite Naruto trying to back away.

 

”W-wait, wait, that doesn’t mean you get to just go ahead and—”

 

“I’m not,” Sasuke says, bare hand already resting against the side of Naruto’s face, gently holding Naruto’s cheek.  “Stop worrying so much.”

 

“You say that like I don’t have a reason to worry about you,” Naruto murmurs, “like I don’t have _reasons_.”

 

Because it’s what Sasuke told him then, too, right before Sasuke left with his parents to go off world for the first time, before he had a public episode right there in the middle of Yuna, one of the busiest spaceports on Nagi.

 

But that was more than two weeks ago, almost a month ago, how long it took for Sasuke to build up his confidence again, in the beginning became bad enough that Sasuke wasn’t given a choice about having extra sessions with Iyashi, all those days Sasuke would refuse to see even _him_ , so Naruto doesn’t immediately pull away from the touch, forces himself to be patient for a moment more, watching for any change in Sasuke’s eyes.

 

There’s none.

 

A few seconds pass, and he blinks, swallows suddenly realising their closeness, the kind of close that marks how comfortable Sasuke’s always been with him, how close Sasuke’s lips are to his, something he’s never really thought about before, but the sort of thought that seems to keep coming up more often than he’d like.

 

Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything, the easy touches between them, turned into a different kind of anticipation from being able to have Sasuke near him, because they’ve always had a connection—more than just their moms being friends, more than just Kyuubi being weirdly attracted to Sasuke’s life magic, more than Naruto being the one to trigger Sasuke’s first empathetic attack.

 

He’s knows he’s at that age where it isn’t so uncommon to think about those kinds of things, knows he won’t be the first or the last one to think about liking someone else that way, because the other kids in his class are doing it, too, pointing out to each other girls or guys they find cute, who they wish they were brave enough to confess to, like Kiba did the other day, after they got their entrance exam results, when he shyly admitted to thinking Ino was kind of cute.

 

Even Naruto’s had a couple of confessions, from people who approached him at the end last term a few weeks ago, his last year in middle school, people he probably wouldn’t see again because they weren’t on the same track.  As nice as he tried to be turning them down, he didn’t really think much of it then, not in the same way he’s started to think of Sasuke.

 

In a way, it reminds him of the crush he had on Sakura, his very first crush, so many times he couldn’t help but blush around her, would practically gush to anyone willing or unwilling to listen, as much as he’d go on and on about her, except with Sasuke, it doesn’t feel like a crush.  It feels more like...

 

He doesn’t know when he started to look at Sasuke differently, when Sasuke became more than just someone who’d follow him, someone he’d wanted to impress, someone who’d look up to him, or someone he’d needed to protect, and just... _Sasuke_.

 

This strange feeling that’s already settled a little too heavy in his chest, he’s not sure when it started to overlap, when being one of few people able to make Sasuke feel better, became this much more selfish desire of wanting to be _that one person_ able to make Sasuke happy.

 

But it’s still Sasuke.

 

And he’s not sure if it’s even right to think of Sasuke that way.

 

There’s this very brief flicker in dark eyes, a worrying flash of _something_ that has Naruto immediately reaching to pull Sasuke’s hand away, but then there’s this sound, immediately stills his fingers gripping Sasuke’s wrist, faint coming from Sasuke, the beginnings of a slow melody, surprisingly soothing, quieting even Kyuubi, so easy to fall into, almost startles Naruto when he realises it’s Sasuke _humming_.

 

“...Sasuke?”

 

He doesn’t recognise the melody, but it’s the softest sound, so much softer than his own increasingly harsh breathing, almost like a lullaby, stretched into an eerie sort of stillness, the only other sound he can hear in Sasuke’s room.

 

And suddenly, Sasuke seems so far away, even though his eyes are still dark, like he’s not even here, like Sasuke’s not even seeing him, not even responding to Kyuubi, because Sasuke’s magic is—

 

The humming stops.

 

In the quiet, Naruto doesn’t move, feels like he can’t even breathe, just watches, waits, counts the seconds, starts from one, only makes it to two.

 

And Sasuke blinks.

 

“Hm?”

 

Swallowing, Naruto licks his lips, loosening his hold on Sasuke’s wrist but not letting go.

 

Sasuke starts to sit back, slowly lowering his hand.  He glances at his wrist, frowning when Naruto still doesn’t let go.  “What’s wrong?”

 

Although Naruto opens his mouth, he can’t seem to get anything to come out, words no longer on the tip of his tongue, words he can’t seem to remember, whatever he was going to say—probably something unimportant, though, since he already forgot.

 

Shaking his head, he grins, as his hand moves from Sasuke’s wrist, trailing up to cover Sasuke’s palm, holding Sasuke’s hand in his own.  “Nothing’s wrong.  With orientation tomorrow, and then having to get ready to move into the dorms, I guess everything’s finally starting to get to me, you know.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you’re going to slack off, does it?”  Sasuke just gives him this _look_ , with one eyebrow raised, at Naruto’s flat stare, this so highly unnecessarily judgmental look, like he wasn’t the one who imposed himself on Naruto first, before Naruto even had a chance to ask for help, Sasuke having already decided that Naruto needed his help to study for the Academy’s entrance exams.

 

“...it’s like you don’t even _want_ to have faith in me.”

 

But that’s okay.  Naruto’s mature enough now that he doesn’t mind letting Sasuke have his way this time, because he knows why Sasuke was so eager to help him, why Sasuke tried so hard to make sure at least one of them got in.

 

“You’re too old to keep asking me to help you with your homework, Naruto.  And this time I can’t...”

 

Breathing in, Sasuke looks down at their joined hands.  He stares for a few seconds, slowly breathing out, slowly raising his head to meet Naruto’s simple gaze with an uneven smile.  “This time you really are...”

 

“I know,” Naruto whispers, “but there’s still us, Sasuke.”  He gives Sasuke’s hand a slight squeeze, squeezes a little harder, when Sasuke returns the gesture with a lighter squeeze of his own.

 

“...yeah.”

 

“There’s always going to be us.”


	2. Shigoto no Ato ni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Among many things, Itachi contemplates Sasuke’s recently discovered empathy, alongside an eight year old Naruto suddenly becoming a significant presence in Sasuke’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually was trying to work on the first part of CE, trying to catch up on what Itachi and Juugo have apparently been doing during Sasuke and Naruto’s tomfoolery, but then this is how I get distracted. Very easily. So, basically, this came from me trying to get back into Itachi’s mindset, which is hard.
> 
> Also, first time ever writing Shisui, and that was, um...that was different. Full of so much bull, though, this whole thing was. Every time I sat down to write, it just kept growing longer and longer.

**II. Shigoto no Ato ni**

 

 

Among many things, Itachi contemplates Sasuke’s recently discovered empathy, alongside an eight year old Naruto suddenly becoming a significant presence in Sasuke’s life.

 

There came a time his mother and father would call him a gentle child, behind closed doors, would dote on him as an exceedingly precocious child, the very source of their pride and joy, their only child, a time Itachi scarcely remembers, too brief a period of calm, before the set of unrest quietly growing in the world around him.

 

There came a time his family celebrated him as a promising child, throughout the recent history of the Uchiha family, at the age of three, to develop empathy, the youngest child, the next prodigy, certain to surpass in magical ability even his cousin Shisui, a time Itachi remembers being praised simply for wielding the rarest kind of magic.

 

There also came a time he ceased to be a child, outgrew the purview of those around him, sought more beyond the legacy of those before him, while he continued to uphold his family’s aspirations without complaint, as he continued to excel in his studies, in magic, commended by his instructors, further distanced from his peers.

 

It was a time he remembers observing even then, the beginnings of a gradual shift among those in the magic user community, bred from years of a near assured complacency, even among the most prominent families, bubbled by their own prosperity, a wilful ignorance to the stirrings of disquiet, what would slowly amass as the next iteration of anti-magic sentiment, would eventually organise into an underground movement, nearly two decades later would proclaim itself the latest incarnation of Root.

 

Far too shrewd for his age, emboldened by his own naiveté, he became impatient, began to pose too many questions, too often told not to concern himself with such immaterial things; although his parents occasionally did try to allay his unease, it seemed very few others would entertain his apprehensions.  Yet while he allowed himself to appear placated, inwardly, he remained restless, with his own accomplishments grew unfulfilled, found no satisfaction in becoming a political prospect to help ensure his family’s continued sway within the Alliance.

 

No longer mired in a once absolute devotion, he became disillusioned with ideals no more than distorted notions from a time long gone, a truth exposed by those who would exert their positions in the Alliance freely, who would use their name in the pursuit of power, would all but flaunt their status, in the face of even rational, albeit minority opposition, would be so blatant in regards to their own bias.

 

However, it was also during an era when unbridled ambitions took centre stage, ran unchecked against established norms, from seemingly all sectors, both within and outside the magic user community, unprecedented, a surge of contenders suddenly vying for the most prominent positions within the Alliance on all levels, be it state, military, or academic.

 

At best, it’d later be considered a pivotal moment for modern day magic user rights and the struggle against magic user discrimination.  At worst, it was abject political theatre, a narrative often provoked by radical new actors propelled by their own self-interests, and yet somehow it seemed even more egregious to see it for himself, the duplicity so prevalent within his own family.

 

Not everyone, though.  Not Shisui.

 

He didn’t have much of a relationship with Shisui prior, but his increasingly reclusive behaviour had drawn Shisui’s attention, or rather, his behaviour was considered at odds with his family’s expectations, and Shisui, already deemed the pinnacle of what of every Uchiha should be, only five years his senior, was persuaded to keep an eye on him.

 

Instead, Shisui became a mentor.  Shisui became his brother.  He was someone Itachi grew to trust, not only as someone who entertained his apprehensions regarding the shifting dynamics in their family, but one of the few people who also shared his concerns, also noticed the gradual tension marking their family’s increasingly aggressive political gambit, worried about the consequences of a vaulting ambition, the kind of self-serving, hidebound mentality inherently opposed to the very principles that have been advocated by the Alliance since its inception, after the Second Great War.

 

To sustain those values that have had such a fundamental impact on magic user rights, the precursor to what would legally sanction magic users as _people_ , a simple recognition not guaranteed by their existence alone—values he so strongly believed in, still believes in, to continue to ensure them, potentially at the expense of his own family’s power and influence in the Alliance...

 

Therein lay the source of Itachi’s mounting turmoil, what would highlight many of the conversations he held with Shisui.

 

_“These ideals we fight for, Itachi, our sense of integrity, the core of what shapes us as people, they’re defined by what we believe in.  And if we all have different beliefs, well, who’s to dictate what’s truly right or wrong?”_

_“But that doesn’t mean there’s no line.  Isn’t that what society dictates, whether or not something crosses the threshold between right and wrong?”_

_“In some instances, yeah, it probably is the case.  Yet even then, it still depends on the kind of society, where or even when that society is, because morality is highly subjective.  And societies have a tendency to change.”_

_“...then, why should we adhere to such outdated beliefs, these ideals our name supposedly stands for, when we’re so far removed from what our family once helped fight for, the very right for people like us to exist, that we’ve become so ignorant and prejudiced to anything that may rightfully challenge how we perceive ourselves now?”_

_“Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer for that, either.  But while it might not always be so clear, what I do know, is that the depth of those beliefs has made us stronger.  That’s how our legacy was forged.  It preserves the bonds created between us, beliefs that have held our family together for so long, why our name continues to protect us, in a world where there are people who will always believe our mere existence to be wrong._

_“Even though our family has a longstanding history with the Alliance, the struggle for power has been a recurring theme.  It ebbs and flows with time.  Yet as significant as that relationship is, for some of us, our beliefs become misguided.  Our motivations become opportunistic.  For some of us, we lose sight of what we once fought for.  We forget what it means to survive, what we’re still fighting for._

_“By the same token, to preserve the legacy of who we were then, to acknowledge who we are now, to remind us who we strive to be, sometimes, it takes personal sacrifice.  Even if it puts you in the shadows, it takes putting the name Uchiha above yourself.  And for the sake of those who will come after us, it takes putting the needs of this family above your own.”_

 

So many of their conversations he didn’t fully comprehend, underlying Shisui’s unequivocal devotion to their family, Shisui’s words many times tinged with a self-reproach Itachi so often thought oddly misplaced.

 

And then there came Sasuke.

 

Itachi was ten, when he became a big brother, when he first held Sasuke in his arms, the first time he began to truly grasp just how strangely fickle, how extraordinarily fragile life could be.

 

When it finally began to dawn upon him, in that singular moment, unnerving the realisation, watching a yawning Sasuke, dark eyes closed, pale cheeks blotchy, the tiniest little fist refusing to release Itachi’s sleeve—to suddenly be responsible for another life, to have someone wholly dependent on him, how so very small Sasuke looked cradled in his arms, frightened him, a realisation that consumed him, how so very easily all of it, everything in that one moment, could be taken away.

 

Because then he realised he was culpable of the same kind of insular thinking he’d been so quick to condemn others for, effectively sheltered from the harshness of a world he was once foolish enough to believe he understood—the nature of the world swathed in moral ambiguity Shisui had been trying to teach him, trying to help him see with his own eyes, past his own convictions, so much larger than what he’d been exposed to, the certainties not promised to those who lived in the world outside of what he only knew.

 

If it weren’t for the opportunities that had been presented to him, afforded to him the very protections ingrained simply because of his name, as a magic user, the simplest privilege he had admittedly taken for granted, the accumulation of sacrifice from those before him, the significance of a legacy that already ensured his own future, already strengthened to secure a better future for Sasuke.

 

And yet in that very same moment, as he watched Sasuke fall asleep in his arms, just as suddenly, he desired nothing more than to shield Sasuke from all of it, despite the very high probability Sasuke would inherent magic, born into their family, inherently bound by the heightened expectations attached to their name, silently vowed he would do as much as was in his power to prevent Sasuke from following the path he himself hadn’t been able to avoid.

 

For the sake of his little brother, in that one singular moment, he hadn’t hesitated, when he decided he would ultimately place Sasuke’s welfare above the needs of their family, at his own expense, perhaps, even to a certain extent, would place Sasuke’s welfare above the needs of the Alliance.

 

Already there was increasing speculation surrounding Sasuke, seemingly from nearly everyone who had so closely monitored Itachi, somewhat alarming, the amount of vested interest in the potential of Mikoto and Fugaku’s second son, surely another prodigy among the Uchiha family, another Itachi.

 

Unlike Itachi, however, at the age of three, Sasuke showed no signs of empathy.

 

Initially, it was characterised as a momentary delay, thought to have little bearing on whether or not Sasuke would even present as a magic user.

 

Eventually, though, it became a trend.

 

The next year, during Sasuke’s first professional assessment at four, his lack of empathy was still considered average within the realm of normal development; most children tended to develop empathy around five, no later than six, and the much smaller possibility that Sasuke wouldn’t develop empathy at all remained a possibility that was given very little thought.

 

Three years later, even allowing for the very high improbability of Sasuke developing empathy past the age of six, there were no indicators that would suggest Sasuke would have empathy, and, therefore, would eventually develop the ability to use magic—this, despite the notably high proportion of magic users within their family, as rare as it is to have magical ability.

 

Within the magic community, their family is one of the oldest, most distinguished families, with records establishing their presence before the First Great War, well before their name was changed from Uchiwa.  Following the course of centuries, their lineage has produced some of the most powerful fire users throughout history, with the average magic user often ranking on the higher end of the spectrum, in terms of both empathy and magical ability.

 

In that regard, certainly, there is a sense of disappointment surrounding Sasuke’s inability to continue in that tradition, as so many in their family have done; and although none of it has been specifically directed towards Sasuke, among some, Sasuke’s lack of empathy has become a superficial concern, in the form of thinly veiled attempts to cast doubts on their father’s capabilities as one of the leaders in their family, one of the few in a small group officially recognised by the Alliance.

 

Being part of such an extensive and prominent family, holding one of the most elevated titles, held under constant scrutiny, his father is very much in a coveted position of power—power that many already have tried to appropriate for themselves, attempts that, to a degree, have often been offset simply by his father having an accomplished son.

 

It’s nothing particularly novel, a reality his father had impressed upon him early in life, when he first began to have reservations about their family’s relationship with the Alliance; regardless of his opinion on the matter, though he’s yet to even claim such responsibility, he’s still viewed as Uchiha Fugaku’s de facto successor, a burden he’s resigned himself to bear, if only so it won’t fall to Sasuke.

 

And it’s along that reasoning, after discovering Sasuke wouldn’t develop empathy, wouldn’t become a magic user, as selfish as Itachi knew it to be, he allowed himself a moment of earnest relief—to know his little brother would be further spared those obligations brought alongside the name Uchiha, as a magic user, simply due to the nature of their family’s status, expectations Sasuke would’ve otherwise been beholden to, unremitting standards Itachi still finds himself subjected to, standards still pitting him against Shisui.

 

Nine weeks ago, Sasuke showed no potential for empathetic ability. 

 

Until nine weeks ago, Itachi foolishly allowed himself to believe Sasuke’s lack of empathy would help ensure Sasuke would remain unaware—the truth of their world too many times unkind, intertwined with ideologies often only permitted by necessity, to hide this from the eyes of his little brother, to shield Sasuke from, this is how Itachi would protect their family’s name.

 

Resting his head against the wall, he extends his legs a little, knees bent upright, as he relaxes into the plush cushions beneath him.  He grunts at the knee momentarily digging into his thigh, the weight shifting across his lap, before Sasuke settles against him with a soft sigh, small limbs seemingly draped over him every which way.

 

Rather than try to fit on the bed too small for the seventeen year old he is, on nights like these, Itachi prefers to make himself comfortable on the generous, two-person sofa, for the sole purpose of having somewhere to sleep in Sasuke’s room, however uncomfortable sleeping in the chair ultimately still proves to be; although Sasuke essentially has an entire floor to himself, the rooms themselves are designed for children, relatively large, yet in Sasuke’s case, predominantly occupied by medical equipment, with scarcely any space remaining to bring in a cot that wouldn’t fit Itachi, anyway.

 

Despite recent efforts to transition Sasuke from an increasingly unhealthy dependence on him, on nights like these, nights when Sasuke will lie awake waiting for his arrival, but doesn’t wait to greet him at the door, swamped in Itachi’s old trainee-issued jacket, lips pursed, dark eyes rimmed red, slightly blurred, thin white blanket clutched in one hand, his other hand already outstretched for Itachi to take, breath hitched when Itachi gently takes the small hand in his own.

 

Nights like these, nights too many since he’s returned to Nagi on temporary leave, he knows it means Sasuke didn’t have a good day, so he does what he can to appease his little brother, allows Sasuke to lead him to the sofa, the moment he sits, Sasuke already climbing on to his lap, already curled and wrapped around him, when Itachi adjusts the thin blanket over him.

 

“...do you want to talk about what you did today?”

 

Against Itachi’s shoulder, Sasuke gives a vehement shake of his head.

 

“Do you want to talk about how you’re feeling now?”

 

Sasuke repeats the gesture.

 

“Aren’t you uncomfortable sitting like this?”

 

Once more, Sasuke shakes his head.

 

“Does that mean you’re going to hold on to me forever?”

 

At this, Sasuke nods his head, and Itachi smiles a little, indulges his own soft amusement at the small hands fisting the material of his shirt, Sasuke doing his best trying to burrow into him, small arms trying to bring Itachi closer.

 

Before having empathy, Sasuke had always been selectively conversational, anyway, but now, and especially in the aftermath of an episode, sometimes, Sasuke simply prefers the quiet, when it’s simply the two of them, slowly lets himself relax, pressed against Itachi’s chest, soothed by the sound of Itachi’s breathing. 

 

With Sasuke like this, he doesn’t expect much in the way of conversation, and curtails his own curiosity that would’ve typically had him further press a less than forthcoming Sasuke for answers.

 

As taxing as Sasuke’s episodes are, both mentally and physically, Iyashi’s maintained that Sasuke’s resulting anxiety is a normal response, and a symptom that has to be treated progressively, but he’s also stressed the importance of preventing Sasuke from going into further emotional withdrawal, while still being mindful of Sasuke’s comfort level at any given time.

 

From what Iyashi’s determined, at this stage in Sasuke’s empathy development, the more Sasuke tries to detach himself from his emotions, the more susceptible he becomes to his empathy, and the higher the risk of him having an empathetic attack, since Sasuke seems equally affected by the emotions of others, as much as his own, simply because his empathy does allow him to feel so strongly.

 

The compromise is what Iyashi has termed dailies. 

 

(It isn’t the most creative name, perhaps taken too literally, derived from the insisted frequency of its purpose, which is to be implemented on a daily basis; although considering Iyashi’s candid, almost blasé demeanour, it’s a term suitably appropriate nonetheless.)

 

Dailies serve as an active measure to gauge Sasuke’s emotional health, based on a less confrontational approach that encourages him to become more comfortable acknowledging his emotions, instead of trying to avoid them altogether.

 

More importantly, they’re part of the foundation towards helping Sasuke build his own emotional barriers, which Sasuke can only do by willingly reconnecting with his emotions.

 

At its core, the effectiveness of giving Sasuke dailies relies heavily on being consistently reinforced, supplemental to Sasuke’s therapy sessions.  And so far, it has been successful, to the point where Sasuke no longer needs to be held under constant medical supervision.

 

It’s only been a month since Iyashi began to advise them how to gradually incorporate dailies into regular conversation, without having the questions appear as an interrogation, and yet, between the three of them, he and his parents have been able to seamlessly establish dailies as a normal part of Sasuke’s everyday routine.

 

Sasuke’s usually given them towards the end of the night, sometimes also during the day, however often, depending on his mood.  While overall an assessment of Sasuke’s emotional state, in effect, it’s a combined technique to help him practice mindfulness: alternating between asking very simple, unobtrusive questions, and providing affirmations whenever Sasuke is more receptive to his emotions, in order to promote positive associations, reassuring Sasuke that it’s okay to feel those emotions.

 

He glances down when Sasuke shifts, as the grip on his shirt loosens.

 

“Are you feeling better?”

 

Sasuke’s left shoulder rises and drops in a small shrug.

 

“Did Iyashi say something to upset you?”

 

 “...I don’t want to go back,” is the murmur into Itachi’s shoulder, Sasuke’s fingers lightly tugging on Itachi’s shirt.

 

“Do you think seeing Iyashi hasn’t been helping you?”

 

Sasuke lifts his head, peering at Itachi with a near frown, brow scrunched.  “No, Iyashi, he...I told you he feels safe now.  And he’s helped me a lot, but I still don’t like when he asks me to talk about it.”

 

“You don’t like when he asks you to talk about your empathy?”

 

“He keeps saying I’m doing better, but what if it happens again?  What if I can’t—”

 

Sasuke lowers his head, resting it again over Itachi’s shoulder, both hands tightening their grip on Itachi’s shirt.  He breathes in sharp, swallows, breathes out as soon as his chest falls, shallow breaths that become quicker, as his body starts to tremble, still pressed against Itachi, unable to bring himself any closer.

 

Eventually, his shaking begins to subside, at Itachi’s hand gently running along his back, Sasuke’s chest falling slowly, as his body relaxes with another inhale, his breathing slowed, even, fingers once more unfurling from Itachi’s shirt, again curled into fists, grip turned loose.

 

The likelihood of Sasuke suffering another episode, unquestionably, it’s high.  There’s nothing Itachi can say or do to assure Sasuke otherwise.  Worse, there’s nothing to indicate when another attack will occur, or what specifically may cause it, seemingly that arbitrary in nature.

 

Fortunately, the considerable progress Sasuke’s made in a relatively short period, at least it’s had some bearing on the magnitude of his most recent episodes, which means the only recourse, is to focus on the continued development of Sasuke’s emotional barriers.

 

Despite the many variances within the professional study of empathy and magic use, it is generally accepted that, when a child begins to develop empathy, defined as the level of sensitivity to emotions, their empathy develops gradually, which allows a child’s natural emotional barriers to develop in tandem with their empathy.

 

Sasuke doesn’t have that innate defence mechanism.  His empathy came unexpected, abrupt.  And because it came so suddenly, Iyashi believes Sasuke wasn’t given the time to develop those conventional protections that have become so well associated with empathy; in his experience, even among the cases of children who do fall behind the normal development curve, discovering empathy at a later age, he’s admitted it’s much more a matter of how long it takes a child’s empathy to fully develop, rather than whether or not those natural barriers are still being retained.

 

The first time Sasuke suffered an empathetic attack, before anyone truly knew what it was, Itachi had been stationed off world, on assignment in Naus, one of the military’s more remote satellite bases, already a year out from the Academy, officially enlisted, preparing for his second year in the SFTI programme.

 

He’d been assigned to a small, rotating unit, the four of them designated as acting tactical combat instructors over the summer months, overseeing trainees from various academies throughout the Alliance.

 

It was their second week on location, but he remembers being particularly aggravated by the heat that morning, as windy as it was, kicking up sand in seemingly every crack and crevice, in their equipment, in his clothes, too much sand all but fused by sweat to his skin.

 

(For anyone stationed there, the running joke was that Naus only had one season: _too goddamn hot_.

 

As a mandatory training post, Naus was inevitable for any cadet, regardless of their academy, more than earning its reputation as the _Shit Stop_.  For enlisted personally forced to return, it was affectionately known as the BFE, a miserable desert environment, purposely utilised to inure trainees to harsh, nearly intolerable conditions.)

 

He also remembers being particularly annoyed with his batch of trainees, far too idle on the field, yet with no shortage of complaints about the weather, most of them save for Cadet Haruno, the only one who showed any promising initiative, a great deal of it; she came from Jushin, one of the smaller, lesser-known academies, classed as a B-rank earth user, although, apparently, she’d already applied for the med track.

 

It was almost a relief, when Sai told him he was being called into the communications tent, a brief respite he didn’t mind taking advantage of.  He took his time, took a more scenic route that still led him there rather quickly, lifting one of the tent’s large flaps and heading inside.

 

Why his superior had requested him, however, relaying a message from his mother, it was the last thing he’d ever expect, because back home, back on Nagi, at the Capital, nothing was supposed to happen to Sasuke.

 

Without having empathy, without having magic, somehow, the thought of anything happening to Sasuke didn’t factor in.

 

And yet without warning, he’d collapsed during class.  He’d had some kind of fit, was apparently still having them, although they didn’t appear to be seizures, because he was in pain severe enough that he wasn’t allowing anyone to touch him.

 

Despite the numerous advances in medicine, how quickly the majority of ailments actually could be treated, after two days, still, no one could pinpoint what was wrong, nowhere near a diagnosis that would explain why Sasuke seemed to be in a near constant state of debilitating levels of physical pain.

 

Immediately, he applied for emergency leave.  The turnaround time was quicker than he’d expected, most likely aided by the fact his mother’s message had actually been transmitted a day prior, and the communications office, for whatever reason, was running on at least a twelve-hour delay.

 

He didn’t know the reason for the mishap, especially considering the communications office was responsible for the only accessible lines able to make contact outside of Naus, but rather than dwell on why the office hadn’t been alerted to the message earlier, he occupied himself by coordinating his leave.

 

Within two hours, his request was granted.  While searching for a replacement suitable to take on his trainees, he was able to secure transportation.  By the end of the night, he was leaving Naus, on a flight home.

 

From the time his mother had sent the message, since Sasuke had been admitted to Reife, it’d taken Itachi three days to return to Nagi.

 

Three days too long. 

 

His father met him at the door to the isolated ward where Sasuke was staying, preventing him from rushing in.  He stood to his full height, stood rigid, yet appeared haggard before him, as if he hadn’t slept in those same three days, posture slightly uneven, his clothes noticeably wrinkled and worn, even his tie in uncharacteristic disarray.

 

It was a peculiar image, made peculiar still by his father’s rare display of uncertainty, echoed by the hesitation in his voice.

 

“Before you...”

 

“How bad is it?”

 

“Nothing’s changed.  No one can tell us what’s wrong.  At this point, your mother and I, we don’t know what to do, but Sasuke...”

 

“What about Sasuke?”

 

“You need to prepare yourself, Itachi.”

 

On the flight home, his parents had tried to warn him, during video calls, did their best to keep him informed.

 

The sedatives still weren’t having any effect.  Sasuke would still scream himself hoarse, as much as his lungs would allow, parch his throat, to the extent he’d become dehydrated.  He was still refusing to eat, refusing to drink, thrashing so much, he kept ripping out his IV line.  He was even refusing to sleep, trying to keep himself awake.

 

Inevitably, he would fall asleep, and sometimes, a nurse would use the opportunity to reinsert his IV line, although as soon as anyone tried to approach him, Sasuke would wake up screaming.

 

As an intervention, the use of physical restraints had been suggested, but his parents both agreed it was too excessive, even as a last resort.  If anything, based on Sasuke’s reactions to even the notion of physical contact, it’d only serve to make Sasuke’s discomfort worse.

 

And yet it still didn’t prepare Itachi.

 

As long strides took him past his father, as he opened the door to the ward, walking toward Sasuke’s room, as the commotion muffled in the background suddenly became louder, disturbing, all too clear, nothing would’ve been able to sufficiently prepare him.

 

Never before had he seen his little brother in such agony, so very small against the stark white of the bed, even smaller surrounded by doctors and nurses and medical aides, hyperventilating, absolutely terrified, as he tried to push away from any kind of touch, a multitude of hands trying to comfort him, trying to hold him still, screams torn from him ragged, the most harrowing sound, among too many voices trying to soothe him, a handful of voices back and forth reading his vital signs aloud.

 

In his haste, he barely recognised his mother, as he passed her, as he made his way to Sasuke, moving everyone else aside, paying no heed to his parents’ warnings, as Sasuke moved to reach for him, simply reached down to take Sasuke in his arms.

 

Immediately, Sasuke stopped screaming, immediately latched on to Itachi, small arms reached around him, the beat of his heart erratic, fingers clinging desperately to the folds of Itachi’s shirt, as Itachi lowered himself to the small bed, Sasuke burying his head into Itachi’s chest, through shuddering breaths, soft murmurs of _niisan_ a seemingly endless refrain, as Itachi gently hushed him, gently began to rock him, his own whispers repeated soft assurances of _I’m here_ , until Sasuke’s exhaustion finally took hold.

 

As Sasuke slept, the rest of the room gave way to quiet, looked upon them.  His mother stood beside him, as his father walked through the door, stood beside her, despite nearly palpable their relief, still uncertain, their expressions weary and drawn.

 

How he was able to calm Sasuke, why he seemed to be the apparent exception, what separated him even from their parents, he didn’t know.

 

Not even the doctors knew.  Among the specialists consulted, many brought in from outside Reife, considered the best of the best, bar none—a week later, still, none of them could determine was what wrong.

 

It wasn’t until the following day, while observing Sasuke’s behaviour around Itachi, that Sasuke’s paediatrician, Doctor Tate, said she was going to recommend a referral to Iyashi, who was one of the foremost authorities on childhood empathy development.

 

Honestly, at the time, it did seem like a bit of a stretch, contradicted for years what they’ve been told.  At seven, Sasuke still hadn’t shown any of the traditional indicators for either empathy or magical ability; in regards to that particular issue, he’d already been seen by many different experts, and each of those experts, knowing both Sasuke’s history and their family’s history, came to the same conclusions.

 

However, Itachi and his parents truly were at a loss, as to what steps they should take next.  While it didn’t seem the most viable option, it certainly wouldn’t hurt, for Sasuke to see Iyashi.  Doctor Tate also went in depth to explain what she knew of Iyashi’s research; referencing journals she’d read chronicling the types of situations Iyashi typically dealt with, his experience with very rare cases that initially presented as outliers; and directed them to additional resources they could explore.

 

The only problem, with Iyashi being in such a highly specialised field, was whether or not he’d be willing to personally take on Sasuke’s case.

 

Fortunately, it took little convincing.

 

It certainly wasn’t cynical to believe their name may have had some influence on Iyashi’s decision, because people have used their name before, to further their own interests, but it also seemed that Iyashi was more so motivated by his own academic curiosity, as intrigued as he was sceptical; the conditions surrounding Sasuke’s seemingly sudden attacks, alongside the apparent intensity Sasuke suffered through them, what Iyashi would later attribute to Sasuke’s empathy, frankly, it was unheard of.

 

A few days later, during the follow-up appointment to that initial consultation, Iyashi theorised Sasuke had an exceptionally high level of empathy, so much so, that it couldn’t be fully measured by the original Suzuki Scale, although he couldn’t resolve why Sasuke still lacked any corresponding magical ability.

 

With Iyashi agreeing to take on a principal role in Sasuke’s care team, much of what he proposed as a comprehensive treatment plan for Sasuke remained largely experimental, because Iyashi had never come across anything even vaguely comparable to Sasuke’s situation, as confident as he did seem in his ability to help Sasuke manage his empathy.

 

It began with family therapy sessions, whenever their parents could make time to attend, since Itachi’s request for extended leave had been cleared; due to the extenuating circumstances, he was allowed an indefinite stay, with Nagi officially listed as his temporary deployment, provided he could fulfil the duties assigned to him.

 

It continued with cognitive and behavioural exercises tailored specifically for Sasuke, constantly tweaked to better assess Sasuke’s evolving needs.  Gradually, without needing Itachi to act as an emotional buffer, Sasuke became more comfortable around other people, although at a time, at most one or two, and that eventually led to the one-on-one sessions Sasuke’s able to have with Iyashi now.

 

Sasuke may be too young to fully appreciate Iyashi’s more direct method of approach, but Iyashi’s been remarkably astute; while he doesn’t necessarily have the most expressive personality, especially considering his expertise, without trying to coddle Sasuke, Iyashi simply has a way of pushing him to identify and confront his emotions, teaching Sasuke how to cope with his empathy, without overwhelming him.

 

“It’s not so bad having empathy anymore, but sometimes, when Iyashi says to pick something, and try to think about how it makes me feel, I just...what happened last week, I don’t want to go through that again.”

 

“It’s okay not to like talking about it.” 

 

“...I know.  That’s what Iyashi says, too.”

 

“And it’s okay to be scared.”

 

Sasuke swallows, shaking his head against Itachi’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, as he breathes in deeply, relaxes, breathing out with a soft sigh.

 

“What about the rest of your day?”

 

“...it was quiet.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

Turning his head, Sasuke opens his eyes, with a quick glance towards the bedside table, where a small model ship's on display, next to a homemade card, the background coloured bright orange, with large characters simply written in dark blue, reading the words _Hope you_ _get well soon_.  “...I got to see Naruto today.”

 

“You did?”

 

“Mm.”  Sasuke gives a slight nod.  “He couldn’t stay long this time, because he has to get ready for his class trip to the aquarium, but it was still nice being able to see him.  He even said he was going to take pictures for me.  And maybe one day we can go back to visit together—did you know Naruto’s dad used to be a fighter pilot?”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah, just like you’re going to be.  And Naruto wants to be one, too.  Just like me.  That’s why he’s letting me keep his ship.  Oh, and then we both decided we’re going to the Academy.  Although we probably won’t be in the same class, because he’ll get to go there first, since he’s older than me.”

 

“It sounds like you have a lot in common.”

 

“We do.”

 

“Is that why you like when Naruto visits?”

 

“Well, it’s not just that, even if he is a little too loud sometimes, but also because Naruto, he...Naruto’s like you.  And when Naruto’s around, it doesn’t...

 

“...I know my empathy won’t hurt anymore.”

 

The word _safe_ is how Sasuke’s come to define the people in his life, his world suddenly so much smaller, in terms of who it doesn’t hurt him to be around, a circle that’s expanded beyond Itachi to encompass their parents, Iyashi, most of Sasuke’s care team, as well, gradually extending to Kushina and Minato.

 

However, initially, that circle wasn’t limited to Itachi.

 

It happened to include Naruto, too.

 

Perhaps, in this particular situation, it shouldn’t be so surprising, how quickly Sasuke and Naruto were drawn together, how easily they were able to develop that level of mutual attachment seemingly overnight.

 

He’s not sure what it means, not yet, but he also doesn’t quite think it coincidence.

 

It is curious, though, that Naruto does have such a significant impact on Sasuke, from the onset of Sasuke’s empathy, had the ability to immediately calm Sasuke by his presence alone, seemingly the only other person able to do so. 

 

Before that day Sasuke collapsed in school, despite past attempts by their mothers to prove to the contrary, he and Naruto weren’t friends; neither had been interested in participating in arranged play dates, more often than not, devolved between childish bickering and long periods of silence from a shared, stubborn refusal to speak.

 

With their families passing through similar crowds, of course, they did grow a little more familiar with one another, on a much more polite basis, through brief encounters during dinners and luncheons, that kind of affair, or, on the rare occasion, when brought along to more formal political functions.

 

Age aside, they were simply on different paths.  Naruto developed empathy, presented with a strong affinity for wind, was developing his magic.  Sasuke developed neither.  Apart from having that one class together, they had no real semblance of a relationship.

 

How close they weren’t then, compared to how close they are now, for all intents and purposes, to Sasuke, Naruto may as well have been a complete stranger.

 

It’s still a little difficult to grasp, what Sasuke and Naruto have, and to achieve that in such a short span of time—as if mere days, passed into a few weeks, standing the test of two months, could result in the kind of intensity that’s created the near instantaneous bond between them.

 

Children could be notoriously fickle at times, one moment presumably the best of friends, and then suddenly no longer on _seeing terms_ , going as far as to avoid even eye contact over some of the most seemingly inconsequential things, many times the simplest misunderstandings thrown out of proportion, all of it somehow forgotten the very next day.

 

Being around Naruto, however, despite any prior distance or childish enmity between them, it’s done wonders for Sasuke, for both his empathy and overall emotional development.  He’s smiling again, slowly regaining his confidence, as inquisitive as he’s ever been, less afraid of his empathy, becoming more and more the child he used to be.

 

Naruto’s been able to benefit from their interactions, as well, although Itachi suspects Naruto’s still struggling with self-imposed guilt, however misguided the sentiment, first made manifest by his initial attempts to befriend Sasuke, overcompensating for an incident that wasn’t his fault.

 

He doesn’t believe Naruto chose to become Sasuke’s friend out of any sort of obligation, though.  Their relationship, it delves far beyond the scope of what happened between them that day, and Naruto’s apparent ability to quiet Sasuke’s empathy; the driving force behind their friendship, as it continues to evolve, there’s this almost visceral attraction, between them the kind of emotional connection that closer and closer lends itself to a lingering permanence, precariously close to encroaching upon co-dependency.

 

Already, Naruto’s taken it upon himself to take care of Sasuke.

 

Already, Sasuke’s responded in kind, already looks to Naruto as easily as he looks to Itachi, with the same wide, credulous eyes, already decided to believe in Naruto’s promises that _everything was going to be okay_ , just as readily as Naruto made them.

 

What’s been most surprising, is how naturally Naruto’s fallen into his self-appointed role as Sasuke’s protector, and how dedicated he is to fulfil the most critical promise he’s made, that’d he was going to be the one to take care of Sasuke.

 

To Naruto’s credit, he’s extremely perceptive for his age, in part due to his own empathy, which is already well above average, but especially where Sasuke’s concerned, able to sense Sasuke’s moods, reacting instinctively to what he believes Sasuke needs, putting himself between Sasuke and the problem he perceives, which occasionally does apply to Sasuke’s care team.

 

While not necessarily combative or disrespectful, or even intrusive, Naruto will become defensive on Sasuke’s behalf, if only because Sasuke won’t always speak up when his empathy’s bothering him.

 

Although touch alone no longer seems to consistently trigger an episode for Sasuke, he still isn’t completely comfortable around more than two or three people at once, still has his moments even during vitals, and Naruto knows this.  Without being told, he’s seen it.

 

That same fiercely protective streak, Itachi does wonder sometimes...

 

It’s not so much as a concern, as it is a simple curiosity.  That’d be more than a bit premature, to judge Naruto’s actions in that context, when there’s nothing that would even have him assume Naruto’s intentions include any ulterior motives.

 

He knows Naruto, this amazing little boy he’s watched over, watched grow, Kushina and Minato’s son.  And this sudden notion of having to entrust the emotional welfare of his little brother to another child, though hesitant he may be, he’d also be incredibly remiss to deny the substantial role Naruto currently plays in Sasuke’s life.

 

Lately, however, as Sasuke and Naruto continue to become closer, there have been a few instances, that have given him pause.

 

Naruto’s inherently protective nature, the extent to which that kind of staunch devotion applies to Sasuke, it certainly exceeds to affect Naruto on a subconscious level.

 

Every so often, towards the end of normal visiting hours, returning from his commute, entering Sasuke’s room, he’ll stumble upon the sight of them sleeping—late in the afternoon, the two of them taking a nap, Naruto sharing the small bed where he comfortably fits, facing the doorway, facing Sasuke huddled against him, Sasuke’s head tucked beneath Naruto’s chin, his face hidden by Naruto’s chest, Naruto’s arm around him, Sasuke almost disappeared beneath the thin white blanket raised past his neck.

 

Sometimes, he’ll catch Naruto on the verge of waking, will catch a flicker of emotion that darkens blue eyes, somehow a maturity that seems beyond him, in Naruto’s gaze, perhaps once or twice a trick of the light, but a fleeting glimpse into an emotion further obscured, quietly assessing, an expression he still can’t decide how to place.

 

Those moments pass quickly, mere seconds before Naruto will recognise him, blue eyes turned bright, will simply smile at him, greeting Itachi with a sleepy murmur of _Welcome back_.

 

To be honest, it is a little disconcerting.

 

Of course, it has nothing to do with being Sasuke’s older brother.  He realises there’s only so much he can do for Sasuke on his own, and he’s not going to begrudge an eight year old, for having that kind of closeness with Sasuke.

 

By all means, he’s grateful that Sasuke has someone like Naruto in his corner, not only as someone close to him in age, but someone who also happens to fall so closely within their family’s orbit.

 

His parents have known Kushina and Minato for years.  They’ve long been friends, long before he was even in born.  Above all, especially considering who they are, having such prominent political careers, being in positions of power that don’t allow them to take relationships at face value, his parents _trust_ them.

 

And he does, too.

 

So, as much as he worries for Sasuke, he also worries for Naruto.

 

He remembers two weeks ago, that Tuesday afternoon, as Naruto was getting ready to leave, remembers speaking to him outside the ward, asking Naruto whether he felt he was being forced to visit Sasuke.

 

Naruto frowned, eyes squinted in thought, a thought formed rather quickly, before he looked to Itachi with such an earnest sincerity, his response a child’s enviable ability to rationalise their place in the world with the simplest reasoning.

 

“I don’t visit Sasuke because I’m forced to come here.  I visit Sasuke because I know it’s the right thing to do, but then I...I don’t want Sasuke to be alone, either.  And I really like Sasuke, too, because we’re friends now, so, wanting to look out for him, that’s still okay, isn’t it?”

 

And yet, despite those kinds of selfless declarations, the innocent reasoning of a child, Naruto is still just that, a child—however deeply he’s come to care for Sasuke, however genuinely happy he seems just being Sasuke’s friend.

 

According to Kushina and Minato, the apparent quest for Sasuke’s friendship, that was entirely Naruto.  Well before he was aware of the effect he had on Sasuke, mind already decided, he sought Sasuke on his own.

 

Which isn’t at all hard to believe, considering Naruto’s wilful personality, sometimes the equivalent to a penchant for trouble—often fuelled by a righteous conviction that once spurred him to skip school, to take a public transport by himself, then sneak into the hospital, in order to see Sasuke, in order to see for himself that Sasuke really was okay, before he was caught by Nurse Mitate, and subsequently chased out of Sasuke’s room.

 

Since then, Kushina and Minato have been more than accommodating, partially to dissuade an already determined Naruto from again trying to run off on his own to visit Sasuke, but also because they’re sensitive to Sasuke’s situation.

 

It’s obvious where Naruto stands on the matter, and they choose to support him.  Although they’ve addressed Naruto’s relationship with Sasuke, they don’t try to influence his decisions either way.

 

Of course, among his parents, with Kushina and Minato, there have been discussions about Naruto’s behaviour, about Sasuke’s, as well, the potential repercussions that could have an adverse effect on them both.

 

Still, at this stage in their relationship, it’d do no good to separate them, under these circumstances especially careless to even attempt, because they are still so young.

 

For now, the consensus is to leave them be.  As of yesterday, though, they don’t have much of a choice anymore.

 

He supposes it was inevitable, really, despite the recently increased security detail, despite the numerous precautions taken to ensure them privacy, the news revealing Sasuke’s empathy, an entire focused on Sasuke’s apparent lack of magical ability, _The Uchiha Anomaly_ —it’s too late to get ahead of it.

 

There’ve already been rumours because of Sasuke’s continued hospital stay.  That was always going to be a given.  Based on the information he’s received from his contacts, most of those rumours are purely speculative, with little substance, if any, reduced to sightings, mentions of people close to their family, seen in passing going in and out Reife.

 

It seems fine for now, nothing that would lead him to believe either Sasuke or Naruto were being put in harm’s way.

 

He’ll probably need to get in touch with Shisui soon, ask Shisui what he can come up with on his end.

 

There’s something about the situation this gives him a sense of foreboding.  The last nine weeks, a series of too highly coincidental events, he doesn’t know what it is, but he’s learned not to so quickly dismiss his intuition—an intuition that’s served him well in life, the same intuition that raised his initial misgivings about his family’s place in the Alliance, about his own place disillusioned with the meagreness of ideology, and yet yielding freely bound to his family’s inherited legacy.

 

“...niisan?”

 

Itachi looks down, carefully adjusting Sasuke in his lap, Sasuke’s arms around him still yet to let go.  “I thought you were sleeping.”

 

“...not yet.”

 

“You’re not tired?”

 

 “A little.”

 

“You can go to sleep.”

 

“I will, but...can I sleep here again tonight?”

 

“You can.”

 

“...will you stay with me this time?”

 

Sasuke’s head still resting over his shoulder, Itachi leans back against the chair, the prolonged position already beginning to wreak havoc on his back, already cause a crick in his neck, but to Sasuke he only offers a small smile, a smile that nearly falters at the faintest little sensation in the back of his mind, a strange sort of warmth not wholly unfamiliar, soothing at the edge of his consciousness, as Sasuke’s breathing falls even, falls softly across Itachi’s skin.

 

“...Sasuke?”

 

Slowly, he brushes away the hair concealing Sasuke’s face, gently places his hand against Sasuke’s cheek.

 

But Sasuke’s already sleep.


	3. All Hail King Neptune and His Water-Breathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Considering how often Sasuke’s put him in these kinds of highly questionably situations, really, it’s like he’s actually trying to get Naruto on Itachi’s bad side. On purpose. At this point, and especially about this sort of thing, Naruto’s already convinced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for underage situations, although nothing graphic.**
> 
>  
> 
> Another post-and-run, because time, I rarely have it. Not the Kushina thing I was supposedly working on, but this was faster to finish, ended up being all over the place, sort of fell more in line with the original crack!fic. And then stuff happened. Too much stuff to unpack, so I won't ramble. idk, it's meh.
> 
> Although I must say, again, anybody who’s stuck with Dirty Harry, you have been entirely too nice to me. I know I can be a hot mess most of the time, but still going back over things, all the issues I've had, how I keep finding stuff I don’t know I missed the nth time around, I just can't deal sometimes.

**III. All Hail King Neptune and His Water-Breathers**

 

 

He knows that Sasuke could be pretty blunt sometimes, knows that Sasuke’s curious nature has always made him a little too curious for his own good (for any sane person’s sanity, really), so maybe it’s Naruto’s fault, for not expecting from Sasuke something that still feels entirely too unexpected, because the moment their relationship crossed _that_ particular line, he already knew this conversation was an inevitability that was eventually going to be brought up sooner or later.

 

Rather than sooner, though, he was kind of hoping for later—much, much later.

 

Don’t get him wrong.  He’s been looking forward to the later part, too, but he’s not in a hurry to rush into this sort of thing, not when everything’s still too new for both of them.

 

On one hand, he really does like Sasuke.

 

It’s been a thing for a couple years now, sailed straight past that stupid teenage crush phase, was already well beyond the stage of sharing red-faced giggles and sneaking kisses on each other’s cheeks; it happened right before he was accepted into the Academy, began from an increasing series of moments that gradually led him to realise how much he’s actually come to care for Sasuke, how much Sasuke truly does mean to him.

 

It’s more than enough to justify risking his life to pursue whatever it is they have now, far too much to simply label them as just friends, nothing he’s sure there’re even words to describe, but something between them that’s always run deeper, between them continues to run still, this sort of persistent bond that sometimes seems like it’s always been there.

 

On the other hand, though, this is Sasuke.

 

The same Sasuke who’d wait while Naruto was in school, stuck in the ward isolated from everyone else, would wait all day for Naruto to visit, and then just light up at the simple fact that Naruto was _there,_ that Naruto came to see _him_.  It’s the same Sasuke who used to follow him around, who looked up to him, emulated him, wanted to be so much like him, that he modelled his first attempt at elemental magic after a wind technique Naruto was learning.

 

That _Sasuke_.

 

Really, it’s still kind of amazing to know that Sasuke likes him, too, that Sasuke would ever think of him that way—never mind that Sasuke was the one who approached him, the one who initiated the whole thing.

 

Again, that’s why Sasuke introducing this topic of discussion probably shouldn’t have been so unexpected, but then the two of them alone at Sasuke and Itachi’s place, alone in Sasuke’s room, studying while sharing Sasuke’s bed, lying close together like they normally do—for Sasuke to just ambush him with something like this, for anything sex-related to suddenly come out of Sasuke’s mouth so casually, seriously, _what the hell_.

 

The borrowed book for his aerospace mechanics class goes flying out his hands, as a blushing Naruto sits up with a start, not even caring about losing his place, when the small book falls over the edge of the bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thud.

 

“Sasuke, you can’t just...” 

 

Lying on his side, right knee bent towards Naruto, his other knee stood upright, Sasuke doesn’t move, right arm propped on the bed, the side of his face held in his hand.  Apparently, while Naruto wasn’t looking, Sasuke already closed his own book, where it lies innocently between them, noticeably coming apart at the spine, an old-looking hardback about the more obscure history of magic lore, that Tenten gave him for birthday.

 

“I’m sixteen, Naruto.  I know what sex is.” 

 

And here’s where Naruto starts to feel himself die a little on the inside. 

 

Yeah, they’ve been sort of experimenting with this dating thing for a while now, and although he has this sneaking suspicion the rest of their families already know something in their relationship’s changed, officially, they still haven’t told anyone yet, which is a very important _yet_ , being the operative word, because they are going to tell everyone else, eventually, since they can’t _not_ tell them.

 

The only reason Naruto’s still holding out, doing the not as responsible thing, is because Sasuke asked him to wait, said he wasn’t ready, wanted to keep this between the two of them for now, wanted to keep this one thing just for _them_ , and even now, even with how much more he does know, with certain things, Naruto still has a hard time telling Sasuke no.

 

(Itachi’s been getting on him for that a lot more lately, as ominous as those kinds of talks tend to be, but for both Naruto’s sake and Sasuke’s, Itachi reminding him why he can’t afford to give in to Sasuke so easily anymore, even if it’s only to make Sasuke feel better, because they’ve reached a crucial age in their lives, and neither of them could risk being found in situations others wouldn’t think twice to exploit.

 

“Wanting to make Sasuke happy, wanting to give Sasuke _something_ , it’s not as if I don’t understand, Naruto, because I do, but you’re older now.  You understand things you weren’t aware of before.  Unfortunately, having that knowledge also means accepting the burden of responsibility it places on your shoulders.

 

“I know Sasuke can be a bit manipulative at times, however unintentionally, because his world has been that small for so long, and there are still too many things outside of it he hasn’t yet been able to fully grasp.

 

“That’s something Sasuke can’t always help, simply because he lacks the experience—the kind of experience you do have, Naruto, the kind of experience Sasuke will have to rely on you for.  In a critical situation, your first response can’t be to appeal to Sasuke.  Instead of reacting to what you believe Sasuke needs, you need to prepare yourself to make long-term decisions based on what would better serve Sasuke’s continued safety.”

 

Even Mikoto’s talked to him about it, a few times pulled him aside, after he got his acceptance letter from the Academy, that proverbial fork in the road, when it finally started to drive home the fact he and Sasuke really were going down separate paths, when it became more and more apparent to everyone around him, the kind of effort he put toward making Sasuke feel better the changes growing between them.

 

She was nice about it, too, which in itself wasn’t so surprising, because she’d always been like a second mom to him, although in those particular conversations, Naruto got the distinct impression that whatever sympathy she had, the last person it was being directed to, was her own son.

 

“The kind of friend you’ve been to Sasuke, the remarkable young man you’re growing up to be, I will never be able to express how grateful I am, how truly appreciative we all are, to be so fortunate to have you in our lives, Naruto.

 

“That being said, please don’t feel as if you have to go along with anything Sasuke may suggest, just to appease him.  As long as you’ve been looking after Sasuke, how deeply I know you do care for him, it’s okay to tell him no from time to time.”)

 

To have that kind of responsibility is a very sobering thing, still a struggle most times, often times at the expense of his own wants, between trying to balance Sasuke’s confidence in him, and navigating through the more difficult choices, that would ultimately be in Sasuke’s best interests.

 

What he and Sasuke are doing now, although the word dating doesn’t really seem to suit it, either, he doesn’t want to think of it as giving in, not exactly, because it’s something he’s wanted, too, something he wants to be selfish about just once, and yet something he’d already been prepared to deny himself, because pushing his emotions on Sasuke, it wasn’t something he could do.

 

Despite acknowledging that he liked Sasuke, how strong in his own convictions about his feelings for him, it still took a while to wrap his head around the possibility of having that kind of relationship between them, making it a little easier to accept the impossibility that Sasuke would ever return those feelings.

 

He just couldn’t see it happening.

 

And then it actually happened.

 

Accordingly, that day Sasuke confessed, of course it threw Naruto for a loop, nearly caused him to spontaneously combust, too.

 

“Naruto?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

 “...what would you do if you liked someone?”

 

Naruto blinked.  “...liked someone?”

 

As random as the question was, seemingly coming out of nowhere, in a way, it wasn’t all that unreasonable.  Sasuke couldn’t stay a kid forever (whether or not Itachi was genuinely convinced otherwise, that was still up for debate), and really, Naruto only had a little over a year on him, anyway, so it shouldn’t have been surprising.

 

Except stuff like that, relationship advice or anything that had to do with what inevitably went alongside growing up as a guy, those just weren’t the kinds of things they talked about.

 

So, even with all the times Sasuke actually came to him first, before even Itachi, that Sasuke would come to him for something like this, honestly, just the idea of Sasuke liking someone else, that was way above what Naruto was emotionally equipped to handle, and especially considering his own ongoing personal crisis, not knowing how to deal with his feelings for Sasuke that still hadn’t gone away—feelings that somehow seemed to keep growing with time, no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, because how he thought he felt about Sakura then, it was nothing compared to how deeply he knew he felt for Sasuke now.

 

Then again, it wasn’t exactly something he could just tell him.

 

Because the way Sasuke was looking at him, the way it felt, sometimes, like Sasuke couldn’t help but look at him, as long as Sasuke had been looking to him, Naruto didn’t want to take advantage of that.

 

It wouldn’t be the first time he chose to push his own feelings aside, and maybe those feelings also included a flare of unwarranted jealousy he had to bury petty deep, way, way down there, but that didn’t mean he was just going to overlook the possibility of someone else taking advantage of Sasuke, either.  More than just what started as friendship, the bond between him and Sasuke, whatever it was, whatever it might end up being, he was always going to put Sasuke first.  He had to.

 

After learning what was truly out there, the kinds of things Sasuke wasn’t even allowed to know about, threats that went well beyond Orochimaru, the near instinctive impulse to protect Sasuke, it became so much more than that promise he made as a kid.

 

At the same, though, he was also trying his best not to jump to conclusions, by imagining the worst case scenario, because he recently started to notice he’d been channelling Itachi a little too much lately; it was bad enough whenever Itachi made subtle comparisons between them, definitely didn’t help that Naruto was already starting to have a better understanding of Itachi’s decisions concerning Sasuke, even if he didn’t always agree with them.

 

“Okay, so, when you say like someone...”

 

Sasuke didn’t fidget, calmly meeting Naruto’s gaze, not in the least impressed by Naruto’s unintentional impression of Itachi.

 

“As in, the way you used to like Sakura,” Sasuke said, still staring, turning on Naruto a very significant look, the knowing kind of expectant gaze that Naruto admittedly had a really bad habit of too many times giving in to.

 

And then the words Sasuke said finally caught up to him.

 

“The way I used to like Sakura?” he almost squeaked, totally didn’t squeak, too late trying to cover it with a cough.

 

The far too obvious crush he once had on Sakura, the way he’d used to follow her around, compliment how pretty she was, openly admire how strong she was, he was just a kid then.

 

Still, it was embarrassing, even looking back on it all these years later, and especially since Sakura liked to tease him about it every once in a while, but he didn’t know what him once having a crush on Sakura had to with whoever Sasuke supposedly liked.

 

“The way Tenten likes to talk about Nel sometimes...”   With a soft hum, Sasuke took a step forward, taking one more when Naruto stepped back.  “The way Kiba still won’t admit he likes Ino...”

 

At that, though, Naruto stayed in place, lips drawn down into a frown, eyes narrowed.  If Sasuke was that serious about it, even bringing up Kiba of all people, then how come Sasuke never said anything before?

 

Sasuke might not tell him every single thing anymore, but he definitely told him a lot more than he’d ever tell most people, because he’d always confided in Naruto.  That much hadn’t changed between them.

 

And everyone Sasuke knew, Naruto knew them, too, including the friends Sasuke made outside of Naruto’s social circle; not even taking into account Sasuke’s complete lack self-preservation skills, being aware of who Sasuke interacted with, it was just one of those safeguards that’d been put in place, one of many that actually allowed Sasuke to have some kind of independence.

 

But even then, thinking of who he knew, who Sasuke knew, Naruto was still having a hard time trying to figure out this mysterious person Sasuke supposedly liked.

 

There weren’t exactly a lot options for Sasuke out there, definitely not with the way he was now, barely a couple months after turning fifteen, just having received the okay that he no longer had to wear his specialised gloves.

 

As long as this person was around the same age, maybe, or at least not too much older, otherwise Naruto really might pull an Itachi.

 

Not to mention, Sasuke being a life user, they’d have to be understanding of that, too, understand that it was going to attract unwanted attention, so it couldn’t just be anyone.

 

Sasuke’s magic and his empathy were such a fundamental part of him, so that meant it had be someone willing to endure everything that came along with Sasuke being who he was, someone who’d go the necessary lengths to protect Sasuke, someone Sasuke obviously felt safe with.

 

He didn’t think it was anyone from his squad.  Ino might’ve flirted with Sasuke a few times, but it was light-hearted teasing, nothing serious.  Besides Ino simply being Ino, his squad had always been nice to Sasuke, treated him like he was one of their own, because they knew how important Sasuke was to Naruto.

 

Maybe a civilian in one of Sasuke’s classes, or maybe even a trainee he doesn’t know?

 

It was all speculation, anyway.  Honestly, based on Sasuke’s circumstances alone, and then coupled with Sasuke’s extremely questionable track record, the disproportionate amount of potentially dangerous situations he ends up getting mixed up in, he couldn’t see Mikoto and Fugaku allowing Sasuke to date just yet, much less even begin to imagine opening the can of worms that would most definitely be Itachi’s reaction.

 

On base, people usually gave Sasuke his space.  There was just something about being Uchiha Itachi’s little brother, that kept most sensible people from being too curious about him, the equivalent of Sasuke having a large sign floating over his head,  flashing in neon characters, practically screaming the words _Off Limits_.

 

Whoever it was Sasuke liked, even assuming they liked Sasuke, too, if that relationship was ever going to work out, at the very least, before anything, they had to get through the quietly intimidating force also known as Sasuke’s older brother.

 

Having to deal with the epitome of those overprotective brother types, being put through the ringer for even trying to get involved with Sasuke, yeah, good luck with that one.

 

“And the way, Naruto...”

 

At the sound of his name, again, Naruto blinked, absently wondering when Sasuke had gotten so close, why Sasuke was looking at him like that, why Sasuke couldn’t just tell him who it was that he apparently liked.

 

“...the way I like you.”

 

A shiver ran down the back of his neck, an ominous chill that continued to travel all the way down his spine, and Naruto froze, like the air around him, his body gone completely still, while his mind was trying (failing) to process the fact that Sasuke had just confessed to him.

 

Because Sasuke had to be joking.

 

He was joking, right?

 

“I’m not joking.”

 

The confirmation was enough to finally spur Naruto’s delayed reaction, when he did a double take, nearly choked, placing a hand over his chest, as he started to wheeze, remembering that he’d just been thinking about Sasuke’s mystery person, because if there was even a chance that person returned Sasuke’s feelings, those feelings weren’t going anywhere without suffering through Itachi’s wrath, but clearly this just became that kind of near inconceivable instance where Naruto _spoke too soon_.

 

“Y-you like,” he stammered, through sounds spluttered between still wheezing breaths, couldn’t even get out the rest of his sentence.

 

Never mind that Itachi was going to have his head on a plate, there was no way Sasuke actually liked him.

 

Sasuke didn’t like him.

 

Sasuke _couldn’t_ like him.

 

Something must’ve shown on his face, though, because Sasuke faltered a little, took a step back, but then he breathed in, lips pursed, dark eyes slightly narrowed, refusing to look away from him.

 

“I already know what you’re thinking.”

 

“I didn’t even say—”

 

“No, but I know you.  I can read it on your face.  I may be sensitive to a lot of things, but I don’t need my empathy to tell me that.  I don’t need for you to tell me how I should feel, Naruto.”

 

The earnest resolve made Naruto straighten his shoulders, made him stand taller, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.  The thought of telling Sasuke how he felt, without doubt, that had never been part of the equation, but suddenly now Sasuke had feelings for him?

 

“... I really do like you.  I know I do.”

 

What was he even supposed to do with that?

 

“You don’t have to say anything.  I just...

 

“Because of my magic, because of my empathy, I wasn’t even sure if I could have that kind of relationship, if it’d even be safe for me to have that kind of closeness with someone.  That’s why I never really thought about it before.  I couldn’t.  And for a long time, it was hard for me to believe I would ever reach a point that would bring me even remotely close to being some kind of normal again.”

 

“Sasuke...”

 

“It’s different now.  I know I don’t have to be alone anymore, that there are people out there I can trust.  And maybe someday I’d be able to have the kind of relationship my parents have, like what your parents have, too.  But even then, I realised I still wanted it to be with you, Naruto.  To have that kind of person in my life, I’ve always...

 

“...I’ve always wanted it to be you.”

 

Naruto dropped his head, with another sigh, closed his eyes.

 

This was why he never said anything.

 

That ridiculously short-lived period he even allowed himself to entertain the idea of having a relationship with Sasuke, for the entirety of two whole seconds, before reality knocked some sense back into him, there were reasons he shot himself down, very good reasons, overlapping with the very same reasons Sasuke seemed to like him, the same kinds of things he’d worry about even if it came to Sasuke being with someone else.

 

Among the most obvious reasons, was the fact there was no telling what kind of effect it’d have on Sasuke’s specific type of empathy, or even his life magic, if it was simply a matter of him subconsciously responding to Naruto’s emotions he could’ve accidently picked up.  More importantly, any kind of attraction Sasuke might’ve _thought_ he had for him, despite his own harboured feelings, Naruto was already convinced Sasuke’s were only because of their history, how Sasuke always felt about him, after developing empathy, the only person other than Itachi he always felt safe with.

 

But then Sasuke’s hands were reaching for Naruto’s cheeks, the warmth from his touch soothing, as he gently lifted Naruto’s head, waiting for Naruto to meet his gaze.

 

“...I don’t expect you to feel the same way,” he whispered.  “I just wanted to tell you, because next year, I know things won’t stay like this.  Everything’s going to be different when you...

 

“But no matter what happens, I know you’re always going to be Naruto.  For me, that’s never going to change, because you’re still _you_ , and that’s all I’ve ever needed you to be.

 

 “So, the reason I like you, maybe it does have a little to do with everything else, but that’s not why I...”

 

The warmth fell away from Naruto’s cheeks, fell away with Sasuke’s arms, as Sasuke lowered his head, one hand raised to grab the thin, silver chain around Naruto’s neck, giving it a soft tug, before his fingers trailed down, hand clasped around both of Naruto’s dog tags.

 

Breathing in, he looked up, opened eyes that watched Naruto with an uneven smile, the tiniest movement from the corner of his mouth, teetering closer toward uncertainty, yet gone too quick to remain, when Sasuke looks down again, too open the kind of vulnerability Naruto hadn’t seen from him in a long time—but there was something about it this time, outside the scope of Sasuke’s episodes, outside anything that had to do with Sasuke’s magic or his empathy, a heaviness somehow still light in his chest, despite having Sasuke right there in front of him, being that close to him, overwhelming the sensation, what he’d seen in Sasuke’s eyes, what Sasuke had actually allowed him to _feel_ , so fleeting a moment, growing behind his own eyes, growing throughout him an emptiness that left him ragged, tore right through him, an emptiness he was afraid to be without, despite how much it just continued to _hurt_.

 

And that was always the difference between this and Sakura, the difference between this and anyone else.

 

Because this was Sasuke.

 

This was still _Sasuke_.

 

And then Naruto surprised himself, licked his lips, swallowed, as he slowly made a reach for Sasuke’s wrist, holding still the fingers gently pulling on his dog tags, holding close Sasuke’s hand to his chest.

 

“...so, um, the way you like me,” he started, paused with too loud an exhale, trying to form the words he wanted to say around a shaky smile, “what if I, uh...what if I said that was the way I like you, too?”

 

Head raised in one sharp motion, Sasuke stared, dark eyes slightly wide, slightly narrowed at Naruto’s hesitant smile with a near frown.

 

“What I mean to say is, would it be okay, then, if I kis—”

 

But Naruto wasn’t given a chance to finish, when Sasuke leaned forward, pressing his lips against Naruto’s, a little too eager pressing himself close, making Naruto stumble, the back of Naruto’s legs hitting the edge of the bed, before Naruto caught his footing, with an arm around Sasuke, caught Sasuke against him.

 

It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it was their first kiss—Naruto’s first ever kiss—so it was okay that it started off a little clumsy at first.  And it was okay that stayed clumsy in the middle, too, turned a little awkward even, in between tentative brushes of tongue, a mishmash of too much teeth, the lopsided slot of lips, with Sasuke abandoning his hold on Naruto’s dog tags, in favour of both hands gripping the back of Naruto’s shirt, trying to bring himself impossibly closer, seemingly trying to _mold_ himself against Naruto, clutching at Naruto’s collar, clutching at strands of Naruto’s hair, leaving Naruto in a bit of daze, because he still wasn’t able to decide how he should move his own hands, couldn’t be sure if it was even safe to put his hands anywhere on Sasuke in this context.

 

(However, there was a part of him that was inappropriately focused on the fact he had to tilt his head a little, turn at the slightest of angles, because he was still having problems coming to terms with the realisation that Sasuke had somehow gotten taller than him—sure, the difference was barely two centimetres, but still.  That wasn’t the point.)

 

Yet despite his lingering reservations, whether or not he should even being doing this kind of with Sasuke, despite a different kind of uncomfortable growing from still having Sasuke pressed up so close against him, and even alongside the enduring air of awkward resulting from having a combined total of absolutely no experience between them, it still felt...nice.

 

Really nice.

 

And it was still nice when they broke apart, when Naruto began to fall backward, pulling Sasuke along with him, a hand already moved to cradle the back of Sasuke’s head, steadying Sasuke on top of him, as Naruto landed on the bed, landing with grunt drowned by the soft rustle of the plush fabric beneath him.

 

Quiet passed between them, seconds uncounted that surrounded them in a comfortable silence.   It didn’t look like Sasuke was going to make any effort to move, so Naruto decided he wasn’t going to, either.  He himself lie there for a little while longer, gave himself time to breathe, slowly inhaled as dark hair tickled his cheek, slowly exhaled at the weight of Sasuke’s head resting against his shoulder.

 

With another inhale, he closed his eyes, suddenly overcoming him this _need_ to keep Sasuke close, more than just wanting to keep him safe, in that one moment, a not quite compulsion, never wanting to let him go, as his hold around Sasuke tightened, as he noticed the funniest sort of ache in his chest, at the soft sigh against his neck, unexpected, a strange new meaning to the familiar warmth from so many times before having Sasuke settled comfortably in his arms.

 

“...sorry,” Sasuke murmured, breathing light against Naruto’s skin, not sounding sorry at all, but Naruto gave into a small smile, anyway, as the arms around him squeeze back, even though the emptiness never left, instead spilled over into a low rumble deep from within his chest, turned into laughter bubbled from the back of his throat.

 

Since then, very much aware of the figurative target on his back, Naruto’s been perfectly fine with just kissing and touching (above the waist, _always above the waist_ ), because Sasuke _just turned legal,_ and just because Naruto’s a seventeen year old guy, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of exercising enough self-control to suppress his own urges.

 

Then again, Sasuke’s also a guy, and doesn’t seem to have any trouble sharing the fact that, yes, he gets those same kinds of urges, too, which seems to be the point he’s been trying to address here, since that’s what started this whole conversation, the question that initially sent Naruto’s book flying out of his hands.

 

_“Do you want to have sex with me?”_

 

Which also brings Naruto back to the current situation.  And Sasuke’s claim that being sixteen means he knows what sex is.

 

“What does age have to do with you knowing anything about sex?”

 

A dark eyebrow is raised.  “You say that like we’ve never even kissed before.  Like I’ve never had to heal my neck, all those times you—”

 

“No, Sasuke, hold on, hold on—in no way is me doing that thing the same as me doing _this thing_.”

 

 “Really, Naruto.”

 

Naruto sucks his teeth.  “You’re the one who suddenly asked me if I wanted to have sex with you.”

 

Sasuke rolls his eyes.  “I didn’t ask if you wanted to have sex right now, but we are going to talk about it, aren’t we?”

 

To be fair, neither of them has been in a relationship like this before, leaving them both fumbling towards something more than what they already have, so it’s only natural that the topic would eventually come up.

 

Really, he’s more thrown off the by the fact Sasuke was the one to bring it up, rather than the idea of sex itself, because it’s not that he can’t talk about that.  He can be serious when he needs to be.

 

“I mean,” Sasuke says, “preparation aside, I know there’s a lot more to it than making sure to wear condoms, and you just putting it insid—”

 

Heat floods Naruto’s cheeks, as both hands rush to cover Sasuke’s mouth, like his life depends on it, nearly barrelling Sasuke over in his haste trying to muffle any and all sound, almost does cause them both to topple, during a last-ditch attempt not to squish the gift Tenten gave Sasuke, but it’s too dangerous for Sasuke to be so flippant saying things like out that loud, not here, not when Itachi’s presence can’t be accounted for.

 

The last time he checked, they were the only ones here, wouldn’t even have to worry about Shadow One or Shadow Two today, since he and Sasuke were just supposed to be _studying_ , but he glances around Sasuke’s room, nonetheless, mentally cataloguing all possible methods of extraction.

 

(He’s personally leaning more towards the window, though.   Really, he climbs through it often enough, instead of using the door, like Itachi says he should, so using it to perform an extraction, that’s always an option.  If push comes to shove, if he needs to grab Sasuke and make a quick break for it, at least it’ll give him some kind of advantage during their escape, however small, because, yeah, on any given day, he’ll take anything he can get against Itachi.)

 

Finding no sign of Itachi, deeming it relatively safe for now, he returns his gaze to Sasuke.

 

Sasuke gives him a strange look, blinks once, twice, then peers down at Naruto’s hands still covering his mouth, dark eyes going slightly crossed, a look unexpectedly cute on him that distracts Naruto for a moment, only a handful of seconds, before he remembers himself, remembers the danger Sasuke’s carelessly putting him in.

 

Just because he doesn’t have Itachi within his sights, doesn’t mean Itachi isn’t lurking around some dark corner, just waiting for the right time to spring a surprise attack, sword already powered up at the ready, because Naruto definitely hasn’t forgotten the guy’s an S-class shadow user who can _literally_ blend into the shadows, that highly skilled with an already highly advanced technique, to the point where not even _Sasuke_ could find him, even using his life magic, so it’s actually not just Naruto’s overactive imagination this time.

 

That aside, considering how close he and Itachi actually are, it’s not like he doesn’t know how much Itachi likes him, over the years, how much Itachi’s actually come to _trust_ him, believes that much in Naruto to willingly entrust Sasuke’s safety _to_ him.  Being recognised by Itachi, that’s always meant a lot to him, and especially considering how distrustful Itachi is, although it’s less paranoia and more so a knack for being able to predict situations, which Naruto’s already seen substantiated first-hand, in too many instances not to admire Itachi for that.

 

This new kind of relationship growing between him and Sasuke, though, Naruto’s just not that confident in testing the theory on whether or not Itachi likes him that much.

Already, it feels like it’s only a matter of time before he _will_ be seeing his life flash before his eyes.

 

Out of the two of them, Sasuke’s the one who can never do any wrong in Itachi’s eyes—never mind how many times Sasuke actually doesn’t listen when people tell him not to do things, because he will forever be Itachi’s little brother.

 

Seriously, how does Sasuke still not understand that?

 

Is this his new way of trying to get him killed?

 

“And who said you get to decide that kind of thing, huh?”

 

Patiently, entirely too calm for the seriousness of this type of serious situation, Sasuke reaches for Naruto’s arms, carefully lowering Naruto’s hands, moving them to Naruto’s lap, then letting go.

 

Slowly, he says, “That’s why I’m asking you.”

 

With a low groan, Naruto closes his eyes, letting himself fall backwards, arms fallen slapdash at his sides, body suddenly listless, sinking into the bed.

 

Why is Sasuke doing this to him?

 

Why?

 

After a moment, Sasuke starts to shift, throwing an arm and a leg over Naruto, resting his head against Naruto’s chest, lying comfortable draped over him.

 

Naruto makes a blind reach for Sasuke, places an arm around him, absently running his hand along Sasuke’s back.  “Not that I didn’t figure this conversation was coming...”

 

“...are you really holding back that much?”

 

Naruto gives a low hum, gives himself a few seconds to think the question over.  “Well, I’ll be honest.  I won’t say that I don’t think about it sometimes, and I know you’ve probably thought about it, too, but I already told you.  That kind of thing isn’t something you should feel you have to do, not for anyone.

 

“I mean, it’s bad enough knowing Itachi’s going to take me out over doing even this much.  Can you imagine what he’d do to me if we actually have sex?”

 

Sasuke snorts.

 

 “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up all you want.”  Naruto gives Sasuke’s side a gentle squeeze.  “You know exactly how your brother gets about you,” he says.  “Seriously, though, what even brought this on?”

 

“...you project sometimes.”

 

The hand on Sasuke’s back goes still, Naruto’s eyes shot wide open, arm falling from around Sasuke, as Naruto stares at him mortified, feels himself burn—from the tips of his ears, all the way down to his toes, his entire body, everything just _burns_ , because in no way is any of that fair, at all, since he’s always tried not to—

 

“Not in the emotional sense, I mean.”

 

In the back of Naruto’s mind, Kyuubi snorts, which Naruto pointedly ignores (since when did Kyuubi suddenly decide to be part of this conversation that doesn’t even concern him?), because lying underneath Sasuke, he’s too busy dying a little more on the inside, by sheer will alone, trying to make himself disappear into the comforter, or anywhere not here, because of course Sasuke has enough control over his own empathy to block out Naruto’s emotions.

 

On the empathy front, hands down, Sasuke’s more powerful than him, but intentionally going past Naruto’s own shields, it’s already a given that Sasuke wouldn’t do that to him.

 

No, this has nothing to do with Naruto’s shields.  Sasuke just happens to be a little too good at knowing how to read him.

 

“Not all the time, though,” Sasuke continues, the most lacklustre attempt to spare Naruto’s feelings, like saying that instead is somehow supposed to make Naruto feel better about what it is exactly Sasuke’s not outright saying.  “And not on purpose, I know, because you always stop before we get far enough for anything like that.”

 

From the back of Naruto’s throat comes this really embarrassing sort of garbled, choking sound.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with getting an erection, Naruto.  Nothing I think you should be so embarrassed about.  If it happens, it happens, but I didn’t bring it up to pressure you into having sex with me.  I just know you’ve thought about it, even though you haven’t tried to talk to me about it.”

 

Naruto sighs.

 

He’s seventeen.  He can be mature about this.  He can survive this conversation with Sasuke, without worrying too much about his odds surviving a surprise encounter from Itachi suddenly popping out of the shadows.

 

Lying together like this, he’s done it with Sasuke before.  For the record, Itachi’s seen them like this, too, plenty of times.  Too many times to count, not even sexual, just for the sake of being close, how often him and Sasuke would end up sleeping together, way before Naruto’s recently introduced fears put a whole new spin on the concept of sharing a bed with Sasuke—namely, the one about getting caught by Itachi.

 

It’s normal, he reminds himself.  Sharing this kind of closeness with Sasuke now, of course his body’s going to react differently.  He doesn’t know how he ever expected Sasuke not to notice, even with all the boundaries he established between them for this sort of thing, especially making it very clear the importance of having their hands remain visible above the waist at all times, but however his body reacts, it’s not actually something he ever thought to act on, not any time soon, anyway.

 

“It’s just...”  Sasuke turns his head to the side, no longer looking at him, and, oh— _oh_ , there it is, a slight flush colouring pale cheeks, and it honestly does make Naruto feel a little better, knowing that Sasuke isn’t as unaffected as he once seemed, for something neither of them can really help in this type of situation.  “It’s not like I don’t think about it, too, so...”

 

With a not so steady inhale, Sasuke starts to shift again, plants both hands on the bed, lifts himself up a little, before dropping his head over Naruto’s shoulder, as he gradually begins to lower himself back down, fingers gripping the comforter on either side of Naruto’s head, breaths hitched with stuttered exhales, as he continues to slowly lower his hips, chest to chest, lays himself right on top of Naruto, his entire body trembling, forehead pressed against Naruto’s shoulder, when Naruto hisses, forcing a breath through clenched teeth, hands already moved to grab Sasuke’s waist, at the tiny little sways of Sasuke hips, Naruto’s fingers digging through Sasuke’s shirt, digging into Sasuke’s skin, Sasuke’s soft gasps somehow too loud his ear, and Naruto’s raising his hips, a quick upward thrust that makes Sasuke jolt against him, finally holds Sasuke still.

 

Okay, so maybe he’s not as mature as he wants to think he is.

 

But before Sasuke tries to start moving again, Naruto pushes up from the bed, still holding Sasuke by the waist, until he pushes Sasuke onto his back, standing on his knees as his hands move to grab Sasuke’s wrists, raising them above Sasuke’s head, holding Sasuke’s arms to the bed.

 

When he looks down, though, it’s to see Sasuke peering back at him, silently watching him, noticeably faster, the slight rise and fall of his chest, as he simply lies there, in dark eyes none of the apprehension that Naruto still feels, instead a near absolute calm, his expression a strange sort of openness, and yet not so different from the way Sasuke’s always looked him— even during something like this, utterly shakes him, the realisation that it’s the same way Sasuke’s still hasn’t stopped looking at him.

 

He swallows, breathes a gruff sigh through parted lips, as he continues to look at Sasuke.  Letting up on Sasuke’s arms, he holds himself steady with one hand on the bed, his other hand more tentative placed at Sasuke’s waist, as he begins to experiment with a prolonged thrust, takes his time with the deliberate roll of his hips, tracing himself against Sasuke to form shallow arc, draws out the motion, from the back of his throat, draws out him a low moan.

 

Sasuke shudders beneath him, a hand gripping Naruto’s arm, fingers squeezing too tight, releasing a soft sigh as Naruto slowly rolls back, Sasuke’s breaths coming in a little faster, as Naruto slowly begins to meet the slight rise of Sasuke’s hips.

 

Ignoring the tremble in his arm, Naruto again starts to pull away, this time barely moving at all, before he suddenly shifts forward, shoulders bunched with a downward thrust that tears from Sasuke a hitched cry, Naruto bearing down hard with his hips, teeth dragged along the corner of his bottom lip, muscles strained by how much effort it simply takes not to _move_.

 

Like this, the way they are now, considering his overall inexperience, he doesn’t know if it has anything to do with Sasuke’s empathy specifically, or both of them having empathy in general, but it’s already too much.

 

It’s _too much_ , so he forces himself off, pushing away from Sasuke, pushing himself to the other side of the bed, throwing his legs over the edge.

 

Chest heaving, he bites back an angry curse, runs a shaky hand through his hair, because that wasn’t supposed to happen.

 

That wasn’t supposed to...

 

There’s a soft rustle of fabric, and Naruto listens as Sasuke starts to sit up, doesn’t look towards him when the bed dips with Sasuke’s movement. 

 

Sasuke doesn’t say anything.  Instead, he simply moves closer, moving across the bed to sit next to Naruto, folding his legs beneath him.

 

Dropping his hand, Naruto scoffs, leaned forward, with the heels of his palms, pressing down near the outside of his knees.  “...when you said talk earlier, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, you know.”

 

With a soft hum, Sasuke reaches for Naruto’s hand, takes it between both of his own. 

 

Deeply, Naruto breathes in, allows his chest to fall slowly, allows himself to relax.  He turns his head, facing Sasuke.  “What about your empathy?  Are you—”

 

“My shields are fine,” Sasuke says, fingers gentle brushes against the back of Naruto’s hand.  “Although considering I’ve never even had sex before, I don’t necessarily have a frame of reference.”

 

“Don’t let Itachi hear you say that.”  Naruto doesn’t hold back a snort, but then he gives a small shake of his head.  “I just didn’t...”

 

Sasuke lowers Naruto’s hand.  “Is that what you’ve been worried about?”

 

“Pretty high up there, but no, that’s not the only thing.”

 

“We still need to talk about it.”

 

“Yeah, I know we do.  And we will.  We will.”

 

“Was it...”

 

“No, it’s not that I didn’t like it.  I really liked it.  I just...”

 

“Naruto?”

 

“Just not now, all right.  Because right now, right now I can’t...”

 

“...okay.”


	4. I’m a Scary Gargoyle on a Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the peace summit, Naruto just wants to enjoy surviving his first year at the Academy. But as much as he’s been looking forward to coming home, there’s still a lot of things about himself he still has to face, a lot of stuff out there he isn’t sure he’s ready to know. Starting with this Orochimaru guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I've been busy, so, meanwhile, as I’m being dramatic about things that have already come to pass, things I keep finding to fix. Oops. I did it again. 
> 
> Still not CE, not even the Kushina fic, but—and this is a very strong but—actually, never mind. What I wanted to write was supposed to be short and finished in time for Sasuke’s birthday. That didn’t happen. Where this came from, though, a certain someone said a certain something about the more implicit aspect of Sasuke and Naruto’s relationship in DH, and I guess my subconscious took off. Without me. 
> 
> Technically, there's a post-peace summit follow-up with Sasuke and Itachi, so I’ll try to get that one up soon...hopefully, without getting distracted by any more ideas.

**IV. I’m a Scary Gargoyle on a Tower**

 

 

After spending almost a year in the dorms, it still feels a little weird being back home at the Capital, being back in his own room.  It’s a lot quieter here, too.  None of the rush of activity Naruto’s gotten used to, a seemingly near constant stream of movement from other cadets going up and down the halls, especially right before curfew, before the inevitable call of lights out, the backdrop of hurried steps against a flurry of voices overlapped through random bursts of conversations.

 

It’s not much different from when he last saw it.  Maybe it feels a little smaller than he remembers, but his parents left his room untouched for the most part, save for the few things he sent ahead, neatly stacked in the corner, right below the hanging display case for his model ships that his dad helped him put together.

 

As weird as it is, it’s nice, too, reassuring even, knowing that at least some things don’t have to change, unlike everything else around him.

 

At least he could say he survived his first year at the Academy.  And not just by doing what was required to pass, either.  Grades still aren’t finalised yet, but his performance was impressive enough that he received more than a few recommendations from his instructors, officially recognising all the hard work he’s put in, recognising early his potential of being a fighter pilot, just like his dad.

 

With all the things that are changing, around him changes happening too fast, it feels really good to be acknowledged, steadies him a little, to have something concrete to show for his efforts, especially since Sasuke legally isn’t allowed take the entrance exam, can’t even follow him in their shared dream of being at the Academy, of one day chasing the stars.

 

And yet despite that, all these things Sasuke could no longer look forward to, he’s been supportive of Naruto throughout, unconditionally, those times when Naruto wasn’t comfortable confiding in his parents, or even the other cadets he’d eventually see as more than friends, but still just wanted to talk, or needed someone to listen to, and he’d ask to hear about Sasuke’s day, how Sasuke was doing with his magic.

 

Even for his own sake, Sasuke never expected Naruto to give up on what he loves doing, in not so many words actually said he’d hit him, if Naruto ever thought about pandering to him for that kind needlessly sentimental gesture, and having Sasuke on his side, Naruto can’t say that hasn’t inspired him to push himself even harder, to prove that everything that’s happened in the past year truly has been worth it.

 

Last night, when he came back home, the first thing he wanted to do, what he’d been thinking about as he got closer and closer toward the long break, was to temporarily retrain his body how to sleep in past six again; morning PT was _brutal_ , had just about killed him in the beginning, because the daily training regimen is that harsh, intentionally meant to weed out the people who wouldn’t be able to cut it in that kind of stressful environment.

 

Of course, his desire to sleep the day away wasn’t happening, didn’t happen, no matter how many times he closed his eyes, because as soon as he opened them, he found he _couldn’t_ go back to sleep.

 

Even a quick nap would’ve helped, rack out until at least maybe eight or so, but all he could think of, was being able to see Sasuke again, kept himself awake, restless, wondering if Sasuke would be excited about seeing him again, too.

 

It wasn’t like they fell out of touch while Naruto was away; despite not being able to talk as much, and although Naruto would mostly stay behind on campus during the handful of short, permitted leaves, even stop by Itachi and Sasuke’s place, since he’d still be on base, for the exodus during the holidays, he’d come back to the Capital for those one or two extended weeks, and he’d made sure to make time for Sasuke.

 

This time around it’s different.  For cadets continuing on, they’re given a much longer leave, because the Academy is essentially still high school, just with a much more rigorous physical and military-centred curriculum, so this time he gets to be around Sasuke, without having to worry about the shorter break period.

 

It was too late for him to see Sasuke yesterday, but he already knew Sasuke was going to be coming over today, after his appointment with Iyashi, because his mom and dad had invited Sasuke and his parents over for lunch, so now it’s just a matter of waiting.

 

He’s already gone out for a run, had enough time to shower and eat breakfast with his parents, finishing up by ten.  Lunch still won’t be until around noon, so he tries to pass the rest of the time lounging in the sitting area downstairs, close to the door, not really paying attention to movie he flipped to, something or another about the fallout of a hostile takeover, with plenty of action scenes and explosions he catches when he occasionally glances up.

 

Instead, he stays busy on his phone.  In between periodically checking for the grades he knows his instructors still haven’t sent through, he opens up an existing group chat, goes back and forth messaging Kiba, Shikamaru, and a few other trainees he’s gotten to know pretty well—they don’t really talk about anything special, just reminisce about this and that, how it feels trying to settle back into what life was like before the Academy, and it calms his nerves to know he’s not the only one thrown off by all the sudden free time, still trying to figure out what to do with himself.

 

He jumps when the doorbell rings, already on his feet, quickly stuffing his phone into his pocket, before rushing to the answer the door.

 

“I got it!” he yells, all but running down the main hall, steps hurried with anticipation, sock-clad feet sliding across the smooth floor; while their house isn’t a mansion, it’s not exactly small, either, so it still takes a bit of a walk to reach the entryway.

 

When he gets there, he unlocks the electronic deadbolt, ignoring the external video feed showing who’s on the other side, as he releases the small, hidden physical latch from the side panel, completely bypassing the security system, and letting door slide wide open.

 

Vaguely, he registers the sight of Mikoto and Fugaku, thinks he might’ve given them some kind of casual greeting, but all he sees in the person standing in front of them.  All he sees is Sasuke.

 

Aside from the occasional video call, it’s been a few weeks since he’s last seen him, and already it feels like so much about Sasuke has changed.

 

His hair seems longer, not sticking up as much anymore, with the front falling a lot closer to his face.  He’s gotten a little taller, too, although still not as tall as him, his eyes only coming up to reach a little higher than Naruto’s nose—something Naruto definitely isn’t above lording over him, since the fact that he’s older, that’s never really meant anything to Sasuke.

 

The jacket Naruto doesn’t recognise, so that’s new, a dark bluish grey, styled with a high collar that covers the entirety of Sasuke’s neck.  But the dark gloves aren’t unexpected, the same kind Sasuke’s been wearing since seemingly forever.  The material doesn’t feel all that different when Naruto takes Sasuke’s hand, takes a step closer as he links their fingers, and gives a soft squeeze.

 

“...hi.”

 

Although Sasuke’s a little stiff, he still manages a small, tired smile, even leaning into him a little, holding Naruto’s hand, taking a moment or two to breathe.  “...hi.”

 

“Are you—”

 

Their reunion’s interrupted when Naruto’s cut off by the loud call of his name, having almost forgotten Sasuke didn’t come over alone, that Mikoto and Fugaku came with him, too, until he winces at the sound of mom’s voice behind him (is that what he really sounds like?), with a teasing smile, asking why he’s just standing there in the middle of the doorway, preventing anyone from coming in.

 

Naruto blushes a bit, embarrassed he’d been so caught up in the moment, being able to see Sasuke again, but Mikoto and Fugaku are nice enough to brush it off, tell him he’s okay, as his mom ushers them all inside.

 

He releases Sasuke’s hand, though, fingers slow to let go, as he moves out the way, watching his mom lean down to cup Sasuke’s cheek; she gives her own soft murmur of _hey, Sasuke_ (much softer than the call of Naruto’s name), paired with a warm smile that seems to help ease some of the tension he’s carrying.

 

From the corner of his eye, Naruto catches a glimpse of his dad, feels a firm squeeze to his shoulder, as his dad moves to join his mom in welcoming Sasuke, Mikoto, and Fugaku inside.

 

Their parents engage in the usual small talk, mostly about the kind of political stuff he isn’t particularly interested in, what’s more or less background noise.  He’s more interested in catching up with Sasuke, teetering between excitement and honest to goodness nerves, hand fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt, nearly bouncing on his heels like a kid, waiting for Sasuke to take off his shoes.

 

“...are you tired?” he decides to say, what he started to ask earlier.

 

It wouldn’t be the first time Sasuke’s gotten like this.  Ever since what happened at Yuna, Iyashi’s been a lot more intense, pushing Sasuke further, trying to help him strengthen his shields and build on his emotional stamina.

 

It’s not to the point of making him more susceptible to his magic or his empathy, but those kinds of sessions can leave Sasuke pretty drained.  Iyashi doesn’t schedule them that often, though, making sure Sasuke has enough time to rest in between, so it’s never actually been a problem.

 

The only thing to watch out for, is whether Sasuke shows any signs of going into emotional withdrawal.  Otherwise, Iyashi says the fatigue is to be expected, and will eventually pass as long as Sasuke continues to improve on his stamina.

 

Still, if he really is this tired, he didn’t have to come over so soon, no matter how much Naruto was looking forward to see him again.

 

“It’s okay,” Sasuke says, looking down as he slides his feet into the light blue slippers he always uses whenever he comes over, the same pair Naruto’s mom bought for him two years ago, and it’s kind of funny to see he still fits them after so long.  “I wanted to see you, too.”

 

Knowing better to press, or at least not right now, Naruto leaves it at that.

 

By the time everyone’s shuffled into the main hall, his dad’s already making the announcement that lunch is almost ready, anyway.

 

Besides, he’s actually kind of hungry, if the low growl from his stomach is anything to go by, prompting from him another small blush, as Sasuke just gives him this highly unnecessary look, eyebrow raised, the corner of his mouth on the verge of something  suspiciously close to a smile.

 

“Yeah, so, I want to eat.”  Naruto tilts up his chin, sniffs, fingers careful when they wrap around Sasuke’s wrist, before he tries to catch up to their parents, leading Sasuke down the hall.  “Sue me.”

 

It’s not much longer before the food actually is ready, and they eventually end up in the smaller dining area, still bigger than his shared room at the dorms, but the one where Naruto normally eats with his parents, sitting at the large, round glass table that comfortably sits eight; the larger dining area’s for much fancier affairs, almost uncomfortably formal, the one his parents use to entertain the really important guests, like foreign dignitaries from other Alliance sectors, or people who just have a lot of influence in general, sometimes people trying to make close ties with government officials.

 

As the staff presents the food in front of them, Gulden makes a short introduction of the meal, nothing heavy, since it’s summer, but still running on the theme of Naruto’s favourites.  Unfortunately, he can’t stay, but he tells them to enjoy, says he’ll be back in time to finishing preparing dinner and dessert.

 

Giving his thanks, Naruto unclasps his hands, eager to tuck into his braised pork belly.

 

The slop served at the Chow Hall, some days it really does taste more questionable than others, as used to it as he is, so he can’t help it if he’s salivating over the opportunity to eat real food—Sasuke gets to have whatever he wants at his and Itachi’s place, which means he doesn’t get talk whenever Naruto complains about the meals served at the Academy.

 

Kiba liked to tease him for being spoiled enough to actually grow up having a personal chef, but Gulden’s more like a family friend, someone his mom and dad met during their days at the Academy, even shared a few duty tours together after officially enlisting.

 

It’s not surprising he has a military background.  Despite his passion for cooking, the guy’s solid muscle, built like a _tank_ , tall and broad, with the gruff sort of voice to match the ruggedness of his dark facial features.  For those who don’t know him, he can be a little intimidating at first sight, but, honestly, he’s one of the nicest people Naruto knows, even a little shy at times, whenever someone compliments his food, despite all the praise he’s received recognising his skills in the culinary field.

 

He remembers when he was real little, watching Gulden in the kitchen.  The guy had a patience of a saint, would pick him and sit him on the counter, while Naruto watched, took the time to explain what he was doing, even though Naruto didn’t retain much of anything, but Gulden would still let him share in the experience, even dubbed Naruto his very important little taste tester, letting Naruto sample a few things before meals.

 

Back when Sasuke was still stuck in the hospital, and Naruto used to visit him straight after school, Gulden would take extra care preparing Naruto’s lunch box, packing extra foods Naruto could share with Sasuke, like the miniature green tea baumkuchen cakes he’d painstakingly make using that small crepe pan, one of the few desserts Sasuke actually liked, because it wasn’t overly sweet, and had a really mild flavour.

 

Gulden doesn’t come over as often anymore, not with Naruto staying at the dorms now.  He likes to travel a lot these days, on what he calls a culinary quest, says he wants to explore wherever the winds take him, although he did come back to help celebrate Naruto finishing his first year at the Academy.

 

He was just as excited as everyone else around Naruto, just as proud, declaring he was going to make all of Naruto’s favourite foods—never mind that he wouldn’t even let Naruto come near the kitchen this morning, playfully scolding him for trying to ruin his own surprise.

 

Being treated, it’s as good an excuse as any for Naruto to enjoy himself, and he does, closing his eyes at the first bite that melts in his mouth.  It’s the same as he remembers it, or maybe even better, although he didn’t realise how much he’d been missing Gulden’s cooking.

 

During the light-hearted conversation around him, in between answering the occasional question about his life at the Academy, he’s practically inhaling his food, with his mom only getting on him twice for not slowing down to chew.

 

Normally, Sasuke would’ve made a comment about it, too, or would’ve at least given Naruto one of those funny looks, against Naruto’s shameless grin, the really cute way Sasuke would’ve scrunched up his nose, except when Naruto looks over to his left, he only sees Sasuke looking down at his plate, slowly picking at his food.

 

Naruto frowns, already lowering his fork, on the tip of his tongue, the urge to ask Sasuke what’s wrong, but then a prolonged vibration cuts through the other voices at the table.

 

It’s coming from his dad, he realises, which is weird, since his dad usually just keeps the volume on his phone low, because each ringtone and notification sound is set for a distinct purpose; the same security features are embedded either way, so it’s how he separates his personal communications from work, instead of carrying around a separate phone, going as far as having his ringtones and message alerts correspond to different levels of urgency—then again, Naruto already has all of them memorised.

 

Although his old man definitely has his share of uncool moments, rarely does his dad do things without some kind of purpose, so it must be pretty important, the real high-profile sort of work-related, because he doesn’t even hesitate to pull out his phone, as a hush immediately falls over the entire table.

 

Whatever the message is, there’s nothing on his dad’s face that gives him away.

 

The reaction from the other adults, though, that’s all Naruto needs to see.

 

It’s one of the rare moments when he’s seen his mom look this serious, her head turned towards his dad, silently watching him.  “...Minato.”

 

Mikoto and Fugaku are just as quiet, pensive, waiting for his dad to say something first.

 

His dad looks up from his phone, pressing the power button on the side, before putting it away.  He looks to him first, though, and Naruto already knows what’s coming, when dad offers a strained smile.

 

“Sorry, Naruto.  Looks like we’ll have to cut lunch short today.”

 

“No, it’s...”   Even though Naruto knows it’s not his dad’s fault, there’s still a familiar sense of disappointment, but that’s nothing new.  He’s used to it by now.

 

“I get it,” he says, shaking his head, because he’s old enough to recognise the considerable demands of his dad’s position, and he appreciates the fact that his dad still tries to make time for him.

 

Visibly relieved, his dad continues to smile through a sigh, a breath that comes heavy with the fall of his shoulders.

 

Sasuke’s the only one who doesn’t seem affected by the sudden change in mood.  He still doesn’t look up, even when their parents begin to stand, as his mom pushes away his hair, placing her hand over his forehead; he only gives a small nod, a soft hum in response to whatever she whispers near his ear.

 

Naruto reaches for his drink, returns his mom’s apologetic smile, before bringing the rim of the glass to his mouth.  He takes a small sip, decides to hold on to the glass a little longer, putting it back on the table nearly empty.

 

Their parents begin to leave, food left forgotten, and he watches them disappear into the main hall, probably heading for his mom’s office.

                                                                                 

With their parents being who they are, among the highest ranked officials throughout the entire Alliance, it’s really not that uncommon for them to be suddenly called to deal with something or another, leaving him and Sasuke on their own, or telling them to go upstairs, which is why the time they do spend together always means that much more.

 

Whatever that message to his dad was, the way their parents had gone quiet, clearly, it was something they’d been waiting for, something they couldn’t discuss around him or Sasuke.  The way it seems everyone’s been on edge since the Federation’s original proposal for a peace summit, he figures it has to do with that, mostly because it’s supposed to be happening next week.

 

For now, though, he takes his time working on the rest of his mixed rice, trying not to be too obvious with the occasional worried glance he sends Sasuke, because Sasuke still hasn’t looked up from the food he’s barely touched—not that he had much there to begin with.

 

The silence is a little awkward silence between them, broken into by the intermittent clank of his fork against the ceramic plate, although it feels more so on his part than Sasuke’s, since Sasuke doesn’t seems all that bothered by their parents having to go so suddenly, especially considering how obvious they were about it.  As much as Sasuke likes to question things, that should’ve been more than enough to get his attention.

 

Yet for him to still be so subdued, even after the more intensive sessions with Iyashi, he usually isn’t this distracted.

 

Naruto doesn’t want to think it’s that bad, not if Sasuke was allowed to come over.  On the other hand, being around him actually does help Sasuke with that kind of emotional recovery, and since Itachi’s gone off world again, it makes sense that Mikoto and Fugaku wouldn’t make Sasuke stay home; for anything else, whether Sasuke wanted to go or not, if his parents didn’t feel it was safe for him, they wouldn’t have agreed to it, point blank.

 

That’s just one of those things.  With Sasuke’s history, the fact that his default level of sensitivity is abnormally high, sometimes there really is no telling how to read the situation, and it’s just better to be cautious.

 

But whatever is bothering Sasuke, confronting him directly isn’t going to be the best approach.

 

Naruto puts down his fork, finishing what’s left of his rice, savouring the last few pieces of seasoned carrots and mushrooms and burdock root, while beneath the table he bumps his knee against Sasuke’s leg.

 

Finally, Sasuke raises his head, raising a small forkful of sautéed mixed greens to his mouth.  “Hm?”

 

 “After all this time,” Naruto says, “you’d think you’d be happy to see me back in one piece, you know.”

 

Slowly lowering his fork, Sasuke just chews his food, _slowly_ , so very slowly.

 

Naruto snorts.  “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

 

Sasuke swallows, placing a hand over his mouth to cover a yawn.  “I already ate earlier,” he says, dropping his arm.  “Not really hungry.”

 

“Do you want to just...”

 

“...yeah.”

 

Normally, they’d clear their own dishes, out of habit more than anything else, but since Naruto’s not allowed near the kitchen until further notice, the staff already said they’d handle the cleanup.

 

On their way upstairs, the silence starts to feel less awkward between them, feels more like the comfortable quiet he’s used to—or maybe it really is just him, because it’s one thing to talk to Sasuke over the phone, or try to check on him during video calls, left to wonder whether Sasuke really was doing okay without him, having to make that transition, when they’d already gotten so used to seeing each other on a near daily basis.

 

It’s something else entirely to have Sasuke next to him, to be able to actually see how Sasuke’s doing, and maybe even that’s just to convince himself that going off to the Academy doesn’t necessarily mean he’s leaving Sasuke alone.

 

He kicks off his slippers, leaves them placed wherever, half-hazard on the floor.  Face first he plops down on the bed, bouncing a little against the soft material of sheets pulled taut at the corners.  He groans against the pillow, inwardly moans about the fact that one of the first things he did after waking up this morning, was make his own bed.

 

He’s not really tired, though.  He just doesn’t feel like moving.  Probably ate too much.  And this is just his body’s way of readjusting to having actual, real food again.

 

He turns over on to his back, anyway.  It’s still early in the afternoon, but the implied suggestion to come upstairs, he could already tell Sasuke wasn’t going to say anything.  Better for Sasuke to fall asleep on the bed, than try to keep himself up for his sake.

 

He blinks at the ceiling, then starts to sit up, propped on his elbows, brow furrowed at the sight of Sasuke still standing by the open door.  “You packed for next week yet?”

 

“Mm-hm.”

 

Figures Sasuke’s already packed.  Of course he’d be.

 

Naruto still hasn’t finished packing, but they aren’t leaving until next Friday, so it’s okay that he isn’t exactly in a hurry to go this peace summit.  At least he won’t have be there feeling stuffy in a tailored suit, although his mom’s already threatened to get him fitted for some new dress clothes soon, because of his recent growth spurt.

 

(“We buy you all these nice things for a reason, little Uzumaki,” she said, and he made a face at the name, what she still liked to call him every now and then, even though he wasn’t so little anymore.  “You’re wearing them.”)

 

Carefully, Sasuke slips out of his shoes, leaving them neatly stacked by the doorway.  He takes a few steps forward, then stops, lips pursed, eyes slightly narrowed, when he takes another step that becomes two, again stops to just to let out a short huff, determined, pushing strands of hair behind his ear, before he seems to finally make up his mind, making his way to approach the side of the bed where Naruto is.

 

That biological tic Sasuke has, this seeming inability to be straightforward about certain things, Naruto wants to tease him for it.  Really, he does, but there’s nothing funny about Sasuke removing his gloves, because he could’ve sworn they already had a conversation about this, after the last time Sasuke took them off.

 

“Sasuke, you’re not supposed to—”

 

“As long as you’re here, I’ll be okay.  So, can I just...”

 

Really, Sasuke doesn’t even have to ask. 

 

But he’s been a little touchy about it lately, seeking him out for this sort of thing, maybe even self-conscious, despite how often he used to do it before, especially after the really long sessions with Iyashi, falling asleep at Naruto’s side—it’s still a little surprising, to be honest, whenever Sasuke does come to him like this, even knowing the kind of effect he continues to have on Sasuke, but Naruto doesn’t hesitate, falls into the familiar motions, simply does what he’s always done.

 

“Yeah,” he says, swallows.  “You can always—here, just let me...”  The words trail off as he repositions himself on the bed, making more room for Sasuke to lie down, and reaching for the light blanket folded at the foot of the bed.

 

The bed dips beneath Sasuke’s weight, as Sasuke takes up the space between them, settles across from him.  He curls up on his side, cheek resting over the crook of his right arm.

 

Naruto doesn’t ask if Sasuke’s cold, just drapes the blanket over him, letting it fall below Sasuke’s shoulders.

 

From beneath the blanket, Sasuke raises his arm between them, reaching out with his left hand for Naruto’s right, at first the barest brush, when their palms meet, Sasuke’s grip light, without his gloves, with the contact of bare skin, and yet somehow that’s enough to calm Sasuke, almost instantaneous, this very simple touch enough to relax him, somehow, takes so very little time to take away from whatever was bothering him.

 

Naruto watches Sasuke’s eyes gradually fall closed, watches Sasuke just _breathe_.

 

It’s kind of scary, really, if he lets himself think too much about it, the extent of how much Sasuke actually trusts him, how easily Sasuke can just completely let go around him.

 

He didn’t really get it as a kid, what it meant all those times Sasuke kept referring to him as safe, but he has a better understanding now, even though Sasuke doesn’t exactly say it outright anymore, because the way Sasuke looks at him is still the same. 

 

But the way he looks at Sasuke...

 

That’s already changed.

 

And it’s still changing.

 

Things are just...different now.

 

And although he can acknowledge those changes, sometimes he still has to catch himself, still has to remind himself, the way Sasuke still sees him, the way Sasuke still _needs_ him, because he doesn’t want to take advantage of that.  Whatever feelings he has for Sasuke, he doesn’t want that to affect what’s become normal for them, how Sasuke’s come to depend on him—he can’t afford to be selfish.

 

But he doesn’t pull away when Sasuke opens his eyes and shifts closer, doesn’t say anything against Sasuke’s knee carelessly brushed near the top of his leg.

 

“You get to see Itachi before he left?”

 

“I did.  This morning.  We had breakfast before my appointment.”

 

“He say anything about the peace summit?”

 

“The same thing he always says—what everyone always says.”  Sasuke gives him a meaningful look, but his eyes are soft, slightly amused.  “To stay with you.”

 

Naruto bites at the bottom corner of his lip, absently realises the skin there’s a little chapped.

 

The part about Sasuke having to listen to him, he bets it was somewhere in that conversation with Itachi, too, although Sasuke’s a very particular brand of stubborn, with a nerve-racking habit of loosely interpreting the things he’s been told.

 

(When Sasuke first picked up on his ability to learn use elemental magic, it almost like he learned out of sheer determination to be like him and Itachi.  Shadow and wind, those were the first elements he taught himself, at the same time even, and for nearly a year he’d spend hours studying on his own, trying to emulate techniques he’d seen Itachi and Naruto do.

 

He eventually came up with his own technique, based on the one Naruto was being taught by his dad, teaching Naruto to manipulate air rotating in the form of a sphere, as a means to focus, to help him contain sporadic bursts of both his and Kyuubi’s magic, too much he had a regular habit of unleashing all at once.

 

In the beginning, though, Sasuke told only told Naruto about his elemental magic, didn’t even tell Itachi, one day just took Naruto to their hiding spot, revealed this tiny little ball of banded shadows and revolving winds, made him promise to keep it a secret until he was really to tell everyone else.

 

And that was the deal Naruto agreed to, as long as Sasuke agreed not to practice without him anymore, because the moment Naruto thought Sasuke was in over his head, no question, he was going to tell someone—when Naruto asked about other elements, Sasuke said shadow and wind were the only ones he was able to use, conveniently leaving out the fact he was already working toward _yet_ , so it didn’t seem so bad then.

 

At least until the inevitable _yet_ kicked in, when one day an excited Sasuke showed Naruto his affinity for fire magic and all but burned off his hand, clearly proving his lack of understanding about the concept of _having limitations_ , forcing a panicking Naruto to find Sakura, and immediately throwing any hope he had of being able to practice any kind magic without direct supervision right out the window.

 

To be a little fair, that was also when Sasuke used to tire out a lot faster, when his stamina was much lower, but even then, he could pick up on other people’s techniques _like that_ , just after seeing them once or twice, was able to adapt various techniques for his own, and that was probably why he was able to progress so quickly with his elemental magic, especially considering he didn’t have any training.)

 

With Sasuke’s track record, though, the growing need to push himself way beyond his limits, for seemingly no apparent reason other than to make the people around him worry, when someone tells him to stay near Naruto, that’s essentially telling him to stay out of trouble.

 

Just the same, as many times as Sasuke’s probably been told to stay with him, just as often, Naruto’s been asked to stay with Sasuke, not so directly asked to watch over him, to help keep Sasuke safe.

 

Having Sasuke’s family, having even his own parents, inadvertently rely on him to be responsible for another person, specifically someone like Sasuke, it really is a lot.  It takes much more than he ever would’ve imagined when he made that promise back then, and yet he can’t deny it’s a responsibility he took up on his own.  A role it felt natural to fall into, he doesn’t even twice about it anymore, because looking after Sasuke, that’s just what he does.

 

Except it’s a lot more complicated now.

 

  “...the whole peace summit thing, it’s not going to be like all those times before.  This is different, you know.”

 

“...Itachi said that, too.”

 

Closing his eyes, Sasuke lets go of Naruto’s hand.  From above, beneath the blanket, it looks like he’s pulling on the cuff of his jacket sleeve.

 

Naruto responds a little less certain then he’d normally be, but, eventually, slowly, he lifts his arm from underneath the blanket, placing it around Sasuke.

 

In the middle of deciding where to lay his hand, suddenly, he has this urge to pull Sasuke even closer, to just hold him in a different way, a lingering impression of something new, just beyond his grasp, this idea that he only has bring himself a little further, only has to tilt his head a little lower, to find out what it’d feel like to brush his lips against Sasuke’s, if even the briefest little touch would be enough to make Sasuke seem less far away.

 

And maybe if he just raised his arm a little higher, if he brought his hand to Sasuke’s face, pushed away the hair resting over Sasuke’s cheek—almost does, but instead he pushes away the thought, lowers his hand, flexing fingers that curl into his palm, touching nothing at all.

 

Again, Sasuke’s hand moves beneath the blanket, but the slight tension returned to his body, it’s already disappeared with the release of his pent-up magic, the way it’s always seem to come more naturally to him, a slowly increasing warmth that wraps around Naruto, more often than not, through the subconscious use of his empathy, the way Sasuke simply responds to him.

 

As they are now, all but a familiar tangle of limbs, facing each other with a familiar ease that just _is_ , the fact that Sasuke still feels comfortable enough to have this kind of closeness between them, that Sasuke still feels that _safe_ coming to him, for that reason alone, Naruto can’t allow it to mean anything more.

 

 “...your appointment with Iyashi, was it that bad?”

 

Sasuke opens his eyes, brow scrunched.  He gives a small shake of his head.  “No, it wasn’t bad.  Just...there were a lot of things he wanted me to talk about, a lot of things he wanted me to do—still wants me to do, before the peace summit.”

 

Naruto make a soft noise in understanding.  He’s sat in on Sasuke’s sessions with Iyashi before.  He knows what Sasuke goes through, knows that Iyashi won’t hesitate to push him, even now, won’t allow him to get in the way of his own progress, because Sasuke still has this tendency to avoid issues that deal with his emotions.

 

“Are you worried?”

 

Sasuke just watches him, wearing his usual expression, calm, unassuming.  There’s nothing about his body language to suggest the question’s put him on the defensive, that he’s even bothered by what Naruto asked.

 

“I don’t need to do dailies anymore, Naruto,” is all he says, simply matter-of-fact.

 

“This isn’t that.”  Relaxing his fingers, Naruto lets his hand fall over Sasuke’s back.  “Really,” he adds, again biting at the corner of his lip.  He wasn’t trying to make Sasuke think that at all.  “I just...”

 

He just wants to help.  Everything he’s done in the past, those things don’t work in the same ways anymore, so he has to find new ways to give Sasuke that same kind of reassurance, except sometimes it’s more hit than miss, because Sasuke isn’t exactly the most receptive to his attempts.

 

“No, what I mean is,” Sasuke says, “it’s not me.  It’s everyone else.  My parents and Itachi, they’re worried about me having to go.  A lot of people are, Iyashi included.  But it’s not like I’m going to be there alone.  They know you’re going to be there, too, so, I don’t...

 

“I can understand why they’re still not comfortable with me going off world, and I know it especially doesn’t help in a situation like this, but whatever it is that has them so worried, whatever’s going on, nobody will actually _tell me_ anything.”

 

“...I think,” Naruto begins, cautious, fingers absently trailing across Sasuke’s back, “I think, maybe there’s a reason, and maybe there really are things out there that might make it worse if you knew, so if they’re doing it to protect yo—”

 

“Protect me?” Sasuke says, a little more biting than the tone from before.  “Keeping me in the dark about whatever’s going on, how is that supposed to protect me, when it just makes me the one least prepared for what’s already out there?”

 

“Yeah, well, it’s not like anybody tells me everything, either,” Naruto points out, fingers stilled at Sasuke’s side, trying not to let his own annoyance at the situation show.  “But even if you did know, would it really change things that much?”

 

Sasuke doesn’t answer, just stays quiet.

 

“Is that what’s been bothering you?”

 

“...I didn’t say it was bothering me.”

 

“Okay, then, what do you really think about it?”

 

“Regardless, I still have to go, so it doesn’t matter what I think,” Sasuke says, more indifferent than anything else, this almost resigned sort of calm that comes from repeating the same thing out of habit.

 

But that’s how he’s learned to deal with these kinds of things, the bold assumptions people tend to make about him, the often unreasonable expectations placed on him by people who don’t even know him, just because he has the rarest form of magic.

 

Still, he can’t stay locked away forever, despite his parents and Itachi’s continued efforts to shelter him from the rest of the world, because that’s not fair to him.  That’s no way for anyone to live.

 

But Sasuke simply accepting that he has to go, it’s not like Naruto can argue against his reasoning, not when he doesn’t even have a leg to stand on.

 

At the same time, though, despite how easily Sasuke seems able to accept the situation for what it is, it’s still hard for Naruto to accept the fact that this is something he _can’t_ fix.  Not just him and Sasuke having to go to the peace summit, but the changes around them in general, an increasingly growing list of things he’s discovered he truly is powerless against, the kinds of things at play he simply can’t fight on his own.

 

After making it to the Academy, being able to hit that milestone, he used to think it’d be the defining moment that would’ve made all the difference, because he used to think that he only had to get stronger in order to protect Sasuke.  But as he grows older, despite how far he’s come, the accomplishments he’s made, no matter what anyone says, no matter how hard he trains, how much he learns, more and more, somehow, it just feels like he’s still not doing enough.

 

“You say that now, that it doesn’t matter what you think, but saying that doesn’t mean you’re okay.”

 

Sasuke shifts a little closer towards him, closing his eyes with a soft sigh.  “...at least you’ll be there with me.”

 

It’s a miracle Naruto doesn’t just tense up right then and there, that his body doesn’t make his embarrassment glaringly obvious, although he’s grateful Sasuke’s starting to nod off, because there’s no way to hide the way he feels his cheeks growing impossibly warm—an airy sort of warm that flutters in his chest, for a moment catches his breath, but also the same kind of warm that starts to twist in the pit of his stomach, an unpleasant sensation he forces himself to ignore, tell himself it’s easier to pretend doesn’t exist, because he can’t help but feel disappointed in himself for still holding on to the small part of him that wants to believe one day it actually could mean something more.

 

“It’s fine, Naruto,” Sasuke murmurs, eyes still closed.

 

Naruto still frowns, though, eyes slightly narrowed.  As often as Sasuke likes to use that word, really, it doesn’t mean what Sasuke probably wants to think it means.

 

When it comes to anything near the subject of Sasuke’s sensitivity, bringing it up can be a little tricky at times. And it’s not even that Sasuke necessarily gets upset, but he definitely tries to sidestep the more direct shows of concern, before anyone can actually ask if his empathy is affecting him.

 

Although he’s come a long way from those days of having really bad episodes, it’s hard to tell sometimes, because he has gotten so much better with his shields, but there’s still the matter of whether or not he’s feeling overwhelmed by his emotions, or simply trying to avoid the issue altogether.

 

“I didn’t ask if it was fine, Sasuke.  I asked if you're okay.”

 

The only response Naruto gets is a soothing warmth, on the edge of his consciousness, the gentlest little nudge, Sasuke this time intentionally reaching out with his empathy.

 

It’s nothing that Sasuke’s ever forced on him, no particular way Sasuke’s tried to make him feel, just...a quiet sort of assurance that helps settle him, helps him find his own calm.

 

Being able to share that kind of warmth, it’s pretty common between most magic users, because of how their type of empathy works; the closer magic users are to each other, the stronger that ability usually is, because it’s more or less about intent, but with him and Sasuke, even taking Sasuke’s specific type of empathy into account, their connection has always been well beyond the norm.

 

Sure, some of it probably has to do with the way Sasuke’s magic appeals to Kyuubi, however that works, but even if Naruto didn’t feel this deep-seated, almost compulsion to protect Sasuke, there’s a lot more to their relationship than just that.

 

_“You keep saying you always have to put me first, but what good is any of that to me—to anyone— if you don’t think about yourself, too?_

_“And I know it’s just the kind of person you are.  I know I can’t ask you to change that, but how easy it is for you to forget about yourself sometimes, Naruto, especially when it comes to me, I don’t...”_

 

How well Sasuke really does know him, tries to comfort him, despite his usual teasing, will readily take care of him, all the ways Sasuke tends to express himself (instead of using what normal people use, those things called _words)_ , although it really is a nice feeling, he still feels a little guilty about it sometimes, since for so long it’s always been the other way around, always him Sasuke would turn to.

 

Or maybe he’s just thinking too much into it, as much he wishes things could just go back to the way they were, when he used to be so sure of himself, when he used to be able to tell Sasuke everything would be okay, before he started to doubt his abilities, before he almost let Mizuki get the best of him, before he got caught up in all his insecurities, because he’s supposed to be the one Sasuke can depend on, already promised he’d be the one who—

 

“ _Ow_.”  He recoils from the finger and thumb that flicked the space between his brow, nearly goes crossed-eyed in his attempt to glare at Sasuke.  “And just what was that for, huh?”

 

“You’re getting worked up again,” Sasuke says, eyes not quite open, when he again allows them to fall closed.

 

“Tch, the nerve of someone like you telling me I’m getting worked up again,” Naruto mumbles.

 

Really, of all people, Sasuke’s the one person who never seems to take these kinds of situations as seriously as he should, so of course that’s easy for Sasuke to say—like Naruto doesn’t already have enough to worry about, like he doesn’t already worry enough for the _both_ of them.

 

“You can’t expect me _not_ to get worked up about something like this.”

 

As annoyed as Naruto is about being dragged into the middle of another political affair, though, he knows he’s not overreacting—not this time, not with the way everyone around him keeps talking about this supposed peace summit.

 

On the surface, the idea’s not all that bad.  It even makes sense.  Between the Alliance and the Federation, the two biggest military powers this side of the galaxy, considering all the history there, although things are relatively stable for now, nowhere near what it used to be even after the Second Great War, there’s only so much left to compete for, and something’s got to give.

 

Eventually.

 

Or at least that’s what it seems like everyone’s thinking, anyway, based on the conversations he’s overheard, bits and pieces probably not meant for his ears, here and there whispers he’s caught in passing, about the more pronounced strain on the relationship between the Alliance and the Federation.

 

From that standpoint, he gets why the Federation’s proposal for a peace summit is such a serious issue.  Almost anything’s an improvement beyond some old, uneasy truce they’ve only been skirting around for the longest time.

 

Plus, it would mean a lot to the magic user community, too; basic rights for magic users was one of the major reasons the Alliance and Federation even started a war in the first place, and the tension left behind still hasn’t gone away.

 

But the whole thing about the peace summit, the Federation apparently turning a new leaf, claiming they want to understand magic users, and work on improving relations with the Alliance, the problem isn’t the proposal itself.

 

No, the problem is how obvious the Federation’s been about trying to make sure Sasuke would attend.

 

While Naruto can admit he might not be the most mindful person out there, even he could see the proposal for the stunt it was.

 

Something like this, there’s no reason to have kids directly involved, kids like him, and especially Sasuke.  Without questions, Sasuke’s always gotten a lot of attention for being a life user, something Naruto had no choice but to get used to, yet for that kind of attention to come so openly from the Federation, without them even trying to cover their blatant interest, it did a lot more than just raise some red flags.

 

During his last break over the holidays, Naruto heard his share of heated discussions between Sasuke’s parents and his own, and he remembers staying up a little later trying to eavesdrop as the voices grew lower, because everyone was being so secretive about the negotiations being made, and about whether or not he and Sasuke would actually have to be at the peace summit.

 

The politics of it all, he won’t even pretend to understand that, but, growing up around his mom and dad, with his parents being such influential figures in the Alliance, he couldn’t help but learn a few things, so he gets how these kinds of things play out, all the stuff not being said outright.  That’s just how it works.

 

Although from what he could piece together at the time, the thing that stood out most, was the topic of Orochimaru.

 

He didn’t know much about Orochimaru then, never heard of him before the name started consistently popping up throughout most of the conversation he’d overheard.  At first, he thought Orochimaru was just some run-of-the-mill bad news.  Now that he knows more, though, yeah, Orochimaru’s confirmed presence at the peace summit significantly factors into why he’s getting worked up about the situation.

 

Surprisingly, Orochimaru used to be part of the Alliance.  He was actually a pretty big deal in the medical field, did a lot of government-sponsored work, but then there was this disaster on Tollan a few months back, kept real hush-hush; allegedly, Orochimaru was conducting illegal experiments on people, and it caused an epidemic that nearly wiped out the entire colony.

 

Not long after word got out, with suspicion around him growing, Orochimaru defected from the Alliance, found refuge within the Federation, where he claimed sanctuary and was accepted with open arms.

 

In the end, nothing was proven either way, and the case has been in limbo ever since.  Legally, it can’t move forward as long as the Federation won’t hand him over, so it’s seems like it’s anyone’s guess what Orochimaru’s been doing over there—aside from getting real cosy with the higher-ups there, since he’s actually part of the committee pulling the strings behind the peace summit, with the bright idea to invite the younger, teenaged kids of important diplomats and career officials from both the Alliance and the Federation.

 

That’s the gist of it, anyway.  Based on that alone, Naruto hopes he never has to run into him, definitely doesn’t want him anywhere near Sasuke—as if the guy didn’t already sound sketchy as hell, like he needs to look any worse, apparently, he has an obsession with Sasuke’s life magic, something to do with his research on immortality, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

 

According to Itachi, Orochimaru’s been attempting to contact Sasuke for the past couple months, coinciding with when Federation first submitted the proposal for the peace summit; he’s been leaving all these creepy voice messages about wanting to meet Sasuke, wanting to personally get to know him and learn how his life magic works, wondering out loud how Sasuke’s empathy would respond to him—Naruto was only allowed to listen to a snippet from one message (not that he needed to listen to any more, or that Kyuubi wasn’t already agitated enough by that point), but even that small sound bite was too much, more than enough to make his skin crawl.

 

Somehow, Orochimaru got a hold of Sasuke’s old number, even got a hold of the number for Itachi and Sasuke’s place, although Itachi’s been screening those calls since he and Sasuke moved in; he’s even sent paper letters through standard mail, using plain envelopes marked by Sasuke’s name alone, with no return address.

 

The worst thing, though, is that there’s nothing necessarily considered illegal about what he’s been doing—never mind that Sasuke’s only thirteen, and Orochimaru’s more than three times his age.  All the things Orochimaru’s said to Sasuke, about his magic or his empathy, when taken at face value, they’re just words, not threats, little more than the _idle musings of a curious scientist_.  That’s how Orochimaru defends it.

 

The only reason Sasuke doesn’t know about any of it, is because everything was intercepted before it could reach him.  All those safeguards put in place to protect him, there’s some seriously heavy logistics that goes on behind the scenes, and Naruto’s only now just being brought into the fold.

 

How often Sasuke’s name kept coming up in connection to the peace summit, that was what gave Naruto the final push he needed to confront his parents about it, based on the fragments of conversations he’d overheard, asked what Sasuke had to do with any of it.  Inevitably, that meant Mikoto, Fugaku, and Itachi were going to be involved, too.

 

Involving him, though, not surprisingly, they all had their reservations about it, especially because of his age, worried he was trying to take on too much at once; like Sasuke, he had to deal with the same kinds of expectations already placed on him, this highly discriminating image of him people wanted to see, just because he carried his mom’s name, just because he’s his dad’s son—that, on top of not being able to perform magic anywhere close to his full potential, having to hold back from what he was really capable of, because he couldn’t afford to risk drawing attention to Kyuubi.

 

But he put up a pretty good argument, eventually convinced them that taking on the responsibility of looking after Sasuke wasn’t something he was forced to do— it was a choice he already made, a choice he never once did regret—and since he was already doing his part to help protect Sasuke, anyway, it’d make a lot more sense to have someone like him in the know, someone they already knew they could trust, someone that Sasuke already _did trust_ , with eyes and ears in places where they couldn’t always reach.

 

Ultimately, it was decided he wouldn’t be told everything, and he honestly hadn’t been expecting that, but once he accepted he’d actually be allowed to know more, they warned him there’d be no looking back.

 

And so, with his case made, with his choice made, they had a serious talk, had the real sit-down sort of conversation about the dangers regularly posed to Sasuke, even talked about a few of the dangers posed to him, too.

 

And Naruto listened.

 

They outlined what learning about those kinds of things would actually entail, alongside the increased responsibility that came from simply having that knowledge, as they began to explain the intricacies that came with such a high profile situation, emphasised the delicate nature of the Federation’s proposal, confirming what he’d already suspected, introducing more than a few things he wasn’t aware of, including Orochimaru’s clear interest in Sasuke.

 

No wonder why Mikoto and Fugaku were initially so against letting Sasuke attend the peace summit.  They’d been pushing back on the idea since the start of the negotiations, after a less than subtle ultimatum, in the form of an invitation being publically extended to Sasuke.

 

But as much as they tried to fight it, even going against the urging from other members of their family, with the Federation threatening to withdraw the proposal if those exact terms weren’t met, there was pressure coming from within the Alliance, too, pressure that came directly from the Council.

 

Even though Sasuke wouldn’t be the only kid there, clearly, Sasuke was a special case.  Anyone involved had to see that.  And although Naruto’s parents weren’t happy about the situation, either, they were the ones who eventually ended up talking Mikoto and Fugaku down.

 

(Itachi was a different story altogether, though.  Because he wasn’t officially invited, he wasn’t going to go, and he didn’t say anything about what he actually thought about the situation, but just for a second, there was this one look Naruto caught, at the mention of Orochimaru’s name, the first time Naruto ever saw such a cold expression on Itachi’s face, for a brief moment, his first glimpse into a darker side of Itachi he didn’t recognise.)

 

But to think the whole thing would’ve fallen apart if Mikoto and Fugaku hadn’t agreed to let Sasuke go, seriously, how much more obvious could the Federation be?

 

If it was more than enough for even him to pick up on, he knew he wasn’t the only one, and yet despite that, after learning that everyone else _knew_ , too, in the end, they still agreed to go along with it.

 

And he didn’t want to accept that.

 

At first, he almost refused to go, and his immediate response was to keep Sasuke as far away from Orochimaru as possible.  It didn’t make sense to risk putting Sasuke in a situation like that, to have him even remotely near the same place as the guy who was all but stalking him—even Kyuubi was speaking up about it.

 

_It doesn’t sit well with me.  So much secrecy surrounding this human’s intentions towards Sachi, do not expect me to stand idle, Naruto, while there are those around who would do Sachi harm._

 

Except his dad a point, too.  A really good one Naruto couldn’t disagree with.

 

_“Honestly, I’d rather have you both stay home.  I’d feel a lot better about the situation if you were staying on Nagi, where we know it’s..._

_“But the long-term consequences of refusing their invitation, the significance of what a proposal like this could mean for the Alliance, for the entire magic user community, it’s so much bigger than us, Naruto.  And we can’t afford to ignore that.”_

 

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was what he reluctantly came to accept, what he’s kept to himself, because one the conditions of being told these kinds of things, is that he’s not allowed to share them with Sasuke.

 

Some of the attention Sasuke gets, for a lot of stuff, like Orochimaru’s apparent obsession with him, he probably is better off not knowing, and although Naruto still has mixed feelings about it, what Sasuke is allowed to know, it’s not his decision.  Surprisingly, or maybe not, when it comes to assuring Sasuke’s safety, Itachi’s the one who usually has the final say.

 

_“But aren’t you worried what Sasuke will think, if he finds about it, that you’ve been keeping all these things from him?”_

_“No, because I want Sasuke to be unafraid to live his life freely, rather than have him constantly looking over his shoulder, running from every shadow that would chase him simply for being who he is.  As long as I’m able to provide that for him, whatever Sasuke may think of me after the fact, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”_

 

The only silver lining, is that along with the rest of the kids their age, he and Sasuke are going to be separated from the adults, grouped with chaperones chosen to act as neutral parties, so it does make him feel a little better knowing he won’t have to worry about either of them being in the same room as Orochimaru.

 

It’s still hard to take in, though, as much as everyone tried to their best not to overwhelm him, and it’s still taking time for him to process the broader extent of what’s really out there, that people like Orochimaru do exist, and the sheer amount of effort that’s necessary to protect Sasuke from all of it.

 

It’s just—

 

He blinks at the magic playing with the side of his hair, a wisp of air that briefly tickles his cheek.

 

“...you do know you can’t do that at the peace summit, right,” he murmurs, glancing down to see Sasuke’s eyes are still closed.  There’s a slight tug at the front of his shirt, and he stills, as Sasuke shifts, curled up pressed against him, head tucked beneath Naruto’s chin.

 

Gradually, Naruto starts to relax, gives into normalcy of something so simple between them, how much he truly did miss this.  He breathes in deep, breathes out slowly, for now just lets himself hold Sasuke close, lets Sasuke’s warmth surround him.

 

“...you’re hopeless, Naruto.”


	5. Like Rhinestones, Falling From the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following his encounter with Orochimaru, Sasuke returns to Nagi, returns to his brother, tries to seek solace despite his still diminishing grasp of a world that seems more than content to continue with or without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for brief discussion involving the possibility of non-consensual touching that didn’t occur. In the case of Sasuke’s empathy, it’s not touching in a sexual sense; it’s more about someone intentionally trying to impose their emotions on him, because of Sasuke’s perceived sensitivity, trying to make him feel a certain way, which Orochimaru more or less had been trying and ultimately failed to do.

**V. Like Rhinestones, Falling From the Sky**

 

 

As comfortable as Sasuke is with his empathy, as much as he does trust his magic, there are still certain things, certain aspects of being a life user, more so as he grows older, that he continues to struggle with.

 

He still doesn’t know what any of it’s supposed to mean, can’t understand how people would even think to place so much significance in something that doesn’t even affect them directly, how so many people have been able convince themselves his mere existence essentially makes him whatever they want to believe—in the grand scheme of things, he can acknowledge the rarity of having life magic, the fact that it’s been a century since the last known life user appeared, but when everything keeps coming back to that, when it always seems to come down to these very moments where it feels like his entire worth is somehow equated to his magic alone, whatever superficial value in his abilities people want to see, all of it means so very little to him.

 

If he could live the rest of his life outside the scope of public scrutiny, he probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but sometimes it really does bother him, this perceived notion of who he is, or rather this already established idea of who he’s supposed to be, simply based on the fact that he’s a life user, because he is the one who’s directly affected by it.

 

As long as he’s been dealing with his own public perception, though, he realised it’s just something he’s going to have to put up with, definitely not something he’s going to be able to escape any time soon.

 

Still, he tries not to let it get under his skin, tells himself he shouldn’t let what other people may think bother him so much, because that’s what Naruto tells him, too, that people shouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions about him just because he has life magic, that people shouldn’t always assume his empathy makes him...

 

Then again, it’s those same assumptions that also happen to work in his favour, an image crafted of him his parents have carefully helped to maintain.

 

There are still plenty of people wary enough of his magic as it is, in particular due to its rarity, the fact he has life magic at all, although it’s the heavy focus on his empathy that seems to temper most of the misgivings apparently based on unspoken prejudices stemmed from him still being a magic user.

 

For his own safety, he’s been told to go along with it, because it’s important for people to continue promoting their own image of a magic user who’s the furthest thing from being any kind of threatening.

 

And maybe that’s the most annoying thing, not being able to break away from that perception, having to keep up with this very passive portrayal depicting him as someone he knows he’s not.

 

Because of his parents’ standing on the political scene, because of the obligations that come from being part of the Uchiha family, he understands the need to uphold appearances, and, as a life user, the role he’s expected to play when he does have to attend the kinds of public events or private functions his parents are often invited to.

 

He won’t say he’s made peace with it, because he hasn’t, and he’s not really sure he can, not where he is now, but he’s accepted it as a situation he can’t fundamentally change, and a situation that has an impact on his parents, as well.

 

Worse than the way he’s perceived, however, is how people tend to respond to that perception, the way they often talk over him, while he’s with his parents, will still talk about him like he isn’t even there, and politely pretend not to notice the gloves he’s wearing, despite the occasional glance thrown in his direction.

 

It’s not that he doesn’t realise where it’s coming from, though.  Most of the attention he’s received is a consequence of how his specific empathy works, the fact that it can have an effect on non-magic users, even with something that’s never been documented before; it’s why people tend to be more curious about his empathy rather than his life magic, because that type of empathy has always been recognised as a ability that only occurs within magic users.

 

And yet somehow his empathy, with his naturally high levels of sensitivity, somehow, people think that gives them permission to treat him like he’s...

 

 _Weak_.

 

That’s what he doesn’t like to say, the way he doesn’t want to be seen, but he’s fully aware some variant of the word is how people view him, like his empathy suddenly makes him incapable of handling emotions, suddenly means he has the most delicate sensibilities, his empathy reduced to no more than an emotional frailty—as if he’s some lost child helpless without guidance from the adults around him, someone with such a sensitive nature, simply expected to comply with their preconceived notions of him, allow himself to be posed the way he’s supposed to moved, because it’s already given he’s liable to break down over the tiniest little thing.

 

Admittedly, some of it does seem well-intentioned, usually from his parents’ closer colleagues, the ones he’s known for a while, and the ones who usually do act of concern, not wanting to upset him, but sometimes with that concern comes gratuitous touches, many times an unwarranted closeness from people who probably want to believe themselves to be reassuring, picking up where security may leave off, a courteous hand placed over his shoulder or at his side, leading him through a crowded area, helping him stay close to his parents, out of kindness, supposedly, and yet the gesture remains misplaced, patronising all the same.

 

But he bears it, whenever his parents give him a concerned glance, bites his tongue and tells them he’s okay.

 

It isn’t so bad, though.  Kushina and Minato are usually invited to the same gatherings, so it’s a lot more bearable when they end up with close seating arrangements, because the closeness he shares with them is a welcomed one, and the warmth from their lingering touches actually is reassuring.

 

(With Naruto at the Academy, he doesn’t have to make those kinds of appearances anymore, and it’s still something Sasuke’s trying to adjust to, no longer being able to spend as much time together as they used to, but it’s also a stark reminder of how much he really does rely on Naruto, underlining the reality that he needs to work harder towards being able to do more things on his own, because he’s old enough now that he shouldn’t be so dependent on Naruto, anyway.)

 

And even without Kushina and Minato, given that he just turned thirteen, he’s not really expected to engage in any substantial conversation, despite how much he’s learned from simply observing, or the fact that he has started keeping up with current affairs, because he does want to better understand what’s happening around him.  Yet, if he’s not on the receiving end of the more obtrusive stares, he’s mostly looked over, even on the extremely rare occasion other kids his age happen to be there, too.

 

Very few strangers actually approach him, anyway, preferring to keep a respectable distance.  Of course, they’d also have to go through security and his parents first, if they did want to initiate contact with him, so there’s always that, although there was one person who proved himself an exception to what Sasuke had come to expect.

 

He was a retired member of the Council, one of his parents’ former superiors, and although they’d been out of touch for a few good years, they became reacquainted during a private charity gala sponsored by his Uncle Madara.

 

(It was the kind of fundraiser common among elected officials, the kind that also served as an attempt to attract additional positive press, and his uncle was no different, preparing for his upcoming election against Danzou.  Yet it happened to serve as a family affair, too, because in their family it was simply understood they were expected to be continue the long-standing tradition of the Uchiha name being prominently involved in either military or political matters.)

 

Trying not to seem obvious, Sasuke listened, gleaned as much as he could, as his parents and the considerably older man who’d approached them went through the usual social niceties typically exchanged at these kinds of events, although the sort of exchange that would sometimes read ambiguous at best, contradictory at worst, depending on the history of the parties involved, if he listened closely enough to parse the meanings behind often carefully chosen words.  

 

Nearing the end of their conversation, however, instead of wandering off to mingle with the other guests, the man made a subtle gesture to the small, round table where Sasuke was seated by himself.

 

The man received a small smile from his mom, returned the silent permission with the small upturn of his lips more fleeting, a smile somewhat defeated, already frayed at one corner of his mouth.

 

Slowly, he made his way toward the table, made the short distance with a slight hobble to his walk.  He stopped next to one of the chairs, standing upright, held his high, yet held his smile unchanged, as he looked to Sasuke.  “Sorry for troubling you,” he said in Japanese, his voice a low, rasping sound, “but do you mind if I sit here?”

 

Sasuke barely managed to hide his surprise.  Considering he’d just heard the man speaking with his parents in Standard, he wasn’t exactly expecting him to know Japanese, too, or to even sound so comfortable speaking it, because most people usually weren’t as familiar with it.

 

He pushed that aside, though, gave a polite bow of his head, gave a polite greeting welcoming the man to sit, because he knew his mom and dad wouldn’t just allow anyone near him; that his parents felt he could handle this sort of situation on his own, that meant something in and of itself.

 

Still, he didn’t know what to expect, couldn’t imagine why someone like that would be interested in him, although instead of turning to his parents in question, he kept his composure, refrained from maintaining direct eye contact, like he’d been taught, had to be reminded so many times before, held himself modest in appearance, yet no less aware, watching as the man sat down, sitting a chair away from him.

 

Returning Sasuke’s bow with a small nod, the man thanked him for being kind enough to humour him, and then introduced himself as Delegate Sanchez.

 

Sasuke gave yet another polite response, all but going through the motions, maintaining the higher level of formality usually expected at these events—Sanchez started to laugh, let out this small, sort of self-deprecating sound, a mild noise slightly strained and hoarse, despite the noticeable warmth in dark brown eyes.

 

“Forgive me, but you really are too kind.”  He ran a hand through his hair, short grey strands noticeably thinner closer towards his hairline.  “At my age, having a title like that, it’s more honorary than anything that could ever hold real meaning in this sort of environment.”

 

Honestly, Sasuke didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t, which seemed to suit Sanchez just fine, amused him even, when he admitted he appreciated Sasuke’s willingness to keep someone like him company, because he’d been feeling a little out of place.

 

“It’s fine,” Sasuke decided to say, because there was nothing that felt wrong about Sanchez, nothing that made him feel uneasy, although there was something about him, more than just his seemingly humble demeanour, still a little unclear, the simplest notion that started to settle on the edge of his consciousness.

 

At first it was...strange, to say the least, but then maybe some of that was due to a sense of relief, too, just from the knowledge Sanchez really wasn’t expecting anything from him, which Sanchez went on to prove, by holding an entire conversation without waiting for any sort of contribution from him, without any of those deliberate pauses some people liked to use, not subtle at all in their attempts, probably because they recognised his own social obligation to respond, when they were looking to Sasuke to confirm their own bias, whatever they wanted to think of him.

 

Despite the one-sided nature of the conversation, he found he was content to listen, as he absently picked at the rest of his food, even found it a little serene, how easily Sanchez moved from one tangent to the next, as if he were in a sea of photographs, taking his time, carefully wading through a tangible trove of memories too many placed before him, reminiscing aloud, maybe just for the sake reminding himself there were still things he hadn’t yet forgotten.

 

He didn’t ask about Sasuke’s magic, though, didn’t once mention Sasuke’s empathy.

 

The most personal thing he said about Sasuke, was that he remembered the handful of times he’d seen him as a baby, and how every time Sasuke would cry around him, or seemingly anyone who didn’t have features similar to Itachi.

 

“You definitely had a pair of lungs on you,” Sanchez said, the corners of his eyes crinkling the memory.  “Wouldn’t have known it, not with how quiet you are now.”

 

“...oh.”

 

“But you remind me of someone I once knew.  Someone who taught me how to appreciate the quiet, taught me how to listen—something I wish I had the patience to learn a long time ago.  Lucky you, though, seems like you already understand what too many people tend to overlook. ”

 

Sanchez also talked a little about the time he served in the military, which Sasuke had guessed earlier, just based on the way he carried himself, and while he wasn’t a magic user, he’d been stationed at Nagi a few times, claimed to have learned a thing or two during his short stint as an instructor there.

 

He seemed the most content while he talked about his wife, though, called her his rock, his Connie, as much as the thought of her seemed to make his already faltering smile waver, lent his gaze toward something not quite bittersweet, when he said that he was just counting down the days, until he’d be able to see her again.

 

There were bouts of silence, too, as quiet as it could get with a backdrop of shuffled noise and the continued overlap of random conversations, moments when Sanchez would get a sort of distant look, between calm sighs, brief stretches of quiet that weren’t necessarily uncomfortable, but overall Sasuke didn’t mind keeping him company, throughout the conversation gradually drawn toward _something_ about him, enough that he’d been unintentionally responding with his empathy.

 

Not that Sanchez would’ve noticed, but that something, whatever it was, reflected in dark brown eyes, this emotion just slightly beyond his grasp , something that almost felt...incomplete.

 

Naruto always liked to say he was too curious for his own good, which Sasuke didn’t always have the ability to argue against, because it probably would apply here, too, but he couldn’t deny the gentle sway of his magic, its presence growing restless below the surface, pulsating beneath his skin, and since he’d already given into his empathy, anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to give in again, just for a moment, just a second or two, a mere glimpse into what his magic was demanding to see—and in that moment, when Sanchez turned away, when no one else was watching, when he felt his eyes begin to grow wide, as the sound seemingly disappeared from all around them, as the colour surrounding him began to fade, it was then that Sasuke _looked_.

 

But just as soon, everything came rushing back, too loud, too bright, and Sasuke blinked.

 

“I know I have to be patient,” Sanchez began, with a glance toward the open floor, toward a small group of people laughing, smiling with the toast of their glasses held high, made again that same self-deprecating sound, when Sasuke finally realised what that _something_ he’d been drawn to was, “if I want to see her again, but...”

 

He gave a small shake of his head.  “That you were kind enough to listen to an old man like me...”

 

Beneath the table, Sasuke tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket, breathed as he felt his magic wrap around him, as his empathy continued to slip slowly between them, found that there was nothing he could really say.

 

“...thank you.”

 

Because Sanchez was _dying_.

 

“No, it’s...”

 

Yet Sanchez was already beginning to stand, already excusing himself to leave, his gaze still warm, tinged with a calm sort of ease, with a small upturn at the corner of his lips, if only this time marginally less frayed.

 

“It was nice meeting you, Sasuke.”

 

Two days later, Sanchez died in his sleep.

 

Sasuke didn’t know him enough about to feel any particular way about his passing, but it did come as a surprise to his parents, which immediately follow with concerns about his empathy, whether or not he’d be affected.

 

Trying to convince them he was fine, however, by telling them he’d already been aware Sanchez was dying, apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say, since it was exactly what they’d been worried about, due to his history, many times over, a proven penchant to blindly go along with his magic, with absolutely no regard whatsoever for the consequences, never mind the fact he wouldn’t have known  about Sanchez if his parents hadn’t confirmed it—except Shisui’s death was something that lingered unspoken between all of them, was a cloud still very much hanging over him, an issue he still hadn’t truly addressed, because what happened that day, as Shisui laid there unmoving beside him, that he’d been able to actually _feel_ Shisui...

 

But Sanchez was different.  Death was something he seemed to have already accepted, something he was seemingly waiting for.  At the time, his body was already dying, with little of his life force remained to sustain it, what Sasuke had seen, very little provisional space left to actually fill.  Simply put, at that stage, death became much more certain.

 

That kind of imminence, however, Sasuke attributed to the natural progression of inevitable decay.  So, while he did give in to his magic’s persuasion, stirred within him, a gentle insistence heightened by the need to satisfy his own sense of curiosity, he didn’t feel as compelled to use his life magic, the way he was normally drawn to fix the rips and tears within another person’s life force.

 

(His natural inclination to heal, to need alleviate someone else’s hurt, it was still there, because that didn’t really go away; usually, it just took the form of his empathy instead, the only way he really knew how to lessen the urge.)

 

There was also his lack of familiarity with Sanchez, when he considered why his magic hadn’t seemingly jumped at the opportunity to run rampant, despite the fact he hadn’t been exposed to Sanchez’s life force for too long, because the length of his exposure hadn’t mattered in the past.

 

It’d been an issue before, so it was fair that his parents were worried about any connection he might’ve made with Sanchez, and the possibility of that connection affecting his empathy.

 

And it was very the reason his parents had started making him wear gloves customised especially for him, to help offset the urges that seemingly came along with his life magic.

 

The gloves were for his own safety, more so than anything else, because while his life magic didn’t manifest as violently as his empathy when it’d first appeared, in some ways, it was actually more volatile, when even the slightest bare touch would take him into a sort of trance, when his eyes grew uncomfortably large, glazed over white, while colour would bleed away from his vision burned with hues of grey and the barest hint of blue— immediately drawn toward any disruption in the natural flow of a person’s life force, no matter how small, would actively seek any perceived flaw, completely taken over by his magic, would quickly tire himself out trying to repair with his own life force whatever he could find.

 

But familiarity became a crucial part of learning how to manage his life magic, too.  During those first couple months, his mom created with these safety drills they’d practice together, through consistent repetition would stress the importance of knowing when it was appropriate to use his magic, through simple rhyme and verse, simple reminders of the rules that were there to help keep him safe.

 

“But you can’t let just anyone else see.  You have to keep this a secret, because only your safe adults know, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Do you remember your safe adults?”

 

Alongside his dailies, the drills became so deeply ingrained into his routine, reinforced why he wasn’t supposed to stray away from his safe adults, why he wasn’t supposed to use his magic in front of people he didn’t know, became a subconscious habit that taught him to be more mindful of his surroundings, a more learned sort of scepticism that worked to help counter his life magic’s inherently indiscriminate nature.

 

It wasn’t just for the sake of his life magic, though.  Later, his mom would it was one of her greatest fears, that the wrong person learned he had elemental magic, because even with her position, with his father’s position, despite the power of the Uchiha name, despite all the influential people they knew, she was still afraid they wouldn’t be able to protect him, if anyone outside their trusted circle discovered the true extent of his abilities as a life user.

 

“As you are now, as you are with your empathy, there are people who’d still try to take you away from us—people who already have tried to take you away from us.  I’m not saying this to scare you, but because you were too young to understand the answers I couldn’t give you before.

 

“We can only do so much, Sasuke.  If nothing else, I need you to understand that.”

 

And he does.  Since meeting Sanchez, since that experience deviated so much from what he was used to at that point, he thinks he’s grown to have a better grasp of how people view him, more than just the pervading belief that he really is so susceptible to emotions, as annoying as it is, because there also seems to be this assumption, more so among non-magic users, maybe, that his empathy allows for the opportunity for others to manipulate his emotions, something he’s only come to realise recently.

 

Sensitivity in terms of magic doesn’t carry the same stigma as sensitivity in terms of how people respond to emotions.  For magic users, their kind of empathy corresponds directly with magical ability.  Outside of that, however, because of his life magic, while he can acknowledge he does respond with his empathy, typically when it comes to those close to him, he doesn’t want to believe it’s something that would make it easier for other people to take advantage of it.

 

More than a few times, he’d been encouraged to smile more, in some shape or form, told that it’d make him more approachable to other people, since he was already so shy.

 

Needless to say, he didn’t take anyone up on those offers.

 

Naruto snorted into a fit of giggles when Sasuke had told him, thought it was the weirdest thing ever, clearly torn between the idea of Sasuke being shy and the idea of Sasuke putting on that kind of smile for other people, but then he turned serious, a lot more thoughtful, the slightest irritation creeping into his voice, when he suggested it was probably because people automatically saw him as someone who was emotionally available, and that was why they were usually so  surprised to see his personality was naturally more reserved than what they’d been expecting.

 

He’s more aware of it now, in the back of his mind, sometimes takes notice of the crude prodding at his emotional barriers, deliberately or otherwise, regardless of intent, although the attempts themselves meagre on their own, because his natural level of empathy is that high, and his shields more much advanced than those from even the most accomplished magic users.

 

Besides, that’s just not how his empathy works.

 

The most disturbing attempt to date, though, the most recent, as well as the most brazen, happened at the peace summit Saturday, during his encounter with Orochimaru.

 

How casually a virtual stranger had approached him, said his name with such familiarity, seemed to already know so much about him, with hushed excitement, the way Orochimaru simply _looked_ at him, very near an obsessive bordering on unnerving, through an open assessment, the way Orochimaru spoke about his empathy, spoke about wanting to learn how his magic worked—being made the object of a poorly contained fascination, while Sasuke can’t deny the entire exchange made him uncomfortable, there was nothing about Orochimaru he felt intimidated by, but it was also the first time someone had truly tried to intimidate him, by making a purposeful attempt to coerce his emotions, trying to make him feel a specific way.

 

He was more annoyed, really, especially when Orochimaru compared him to Itachi, said that he wasn’t quite like his brother, insinuating the same kinds of things he’d already heard before, mocking him with the same contrived assumptions about his abilities solely based on his empathy.  Whatever Orochimaru had been expecting from him, he didn’t particularly care, because he wasn’t going to entertain it.

 

Honestly, putting aside Orochimaru’s eagerness to indulge in his own scientific curiosity, Sasuke’s not really bothered by the situation, especially after the fact, although no one else seems to share that sentiment.

 

Maybe if he knew about Orochimaru beforehand, maybe he wouldn’t have wandered away from Naruto, maybe he would’ve tried to stay close, despite his growing discomfort at the unavoidable stares from the other kids there, periodic glances he couldn’t ignore, questions they were too polite to direct toward him, but questions about him they seemingly had no issues asking Naruto, never mind all the attention Naruto was already receiving.

 

And the fact he didn’t want to be around for that, well...

 

Nobody else seemed to notice he was no longer there, anyway, including the chaperones who were supposed to be watching them, because he hadn’t even wandered that far, was just outside the room, still in the hall, and maybe it wouldn’t have turned into such an ordeal if Orochimaru hadn’t approached him—if Naruto hadn’t decided to come after him.

 

And suddenly, Naruto was just _there_ —fingers seized tight around Sasuke’s arm, _fuming_ , he pulled Sasuke behind him, trying to keep Sasuke from the stranger’s view, the air depressed around him, his entire body trembling, Kyuubi already resonating within him, dangerously close to the surface, Kyuubi’s magic already so close intertwined with Naruto’s own.

 

The moment the stranger was out of sight, Naruto’s attention went right back to Sasuke, blue eyes narrowed, searching for signs he already knew to look for, checking to make sure Sasuke will still wearing his gloves, while his hands roamed over him, turned less frantic as they ran along the outside of Sasuke’s arms, pressing them close to Sasuke’s sides, when Naruto gave him a soft shake.

 

“...did that guy do anything to you?”

 

Sasuke let himself be moved, unconsciously leaned into the hands that rose to frame his face, careful, tilting up his chin.  “What’re you—”

 

“That Orochimaru guy, if he did something to you,” Naruto began, voice growing lower, words whispered harsh, “if that bastard tried anything with you, _anything_ , you need to tell me—you have to tell me, Sasuke.”

 

“It’s oka—”

 

“No, it’s not okay because I heard him—I _heard_ him, and the things that bastard said to you, he should’ve _never_ said those things to you, Sasuke.  No one should ever say those kinds of things to you—and you need to know that—you need to remember that, because no one gets to talk any kind of way to you, all right.”

 

Sasuke blinked, stunned by the sudden intensity, in Naruto’s tone a sudden urgency, trapped beneath the determined resolve of blue eyes that for a brief moment flashed red.  He wasn’t afraid.  He’d never been afraid of Naruto or Kyuubi, never had a reason to be, but he found himself startled all the same, slightly alarmed, because while he knew Naruto’s anger was directed toward that Orochimaru guy, Naruto hadn’t said anything to explain _why_.

 

“...all right.”

 

“That’s why you have to tell me,” Naruto said, and vaguely, Sasuke realised, the entire time, they hadn’t been speaking Standard; since confronting Orochimaru, Naruto had switched over to their native Japanese, had already ensured the small audience they’d drawn wouldn’t understand them.  “Did he try to touch you?”

 

“Naruto, I don’t—”

 

“Sasuke, did he _touch_ you?” came a low hiss, a near snarl, a slight rumble from Naruto’s chest, tinged with Kyuubi’s presence, from Kyuubi himself, an increasing agitation, a ferocity there that actually surprised Sasuke.

 

Naruto being so defensive on his behalf, that he understood, was even used to by now, but to this extent, it didn’t...

 

Yet when he looked to Kyuubi, when he gave the slightest questioning nudge, his magic still responding to Kyuubi, reaching out to keep him calm, Kyuubi wouldn’t explain what about Orochimaru had angered him, either.  He only gave an impatient tug in response, only sought from him assurance, echoing what Naruto was already asking aloud.

 

_Answer, Sachi.  You need to tell us._

 

There was noise, surrounding him words, not conversation, someone trying to get their attention, but Sasuke only watched him, watched _them_ , nearly frowned, nearly swayed, still leaning into the hands resting careful against his cheeks.

 

“...I’m fine.  He didn’t do anything to me.”

 

Naruto dropped his hands, dropped his head, eyes squeezed shut, breathed in deep.  He heaved a sigh, heavy with the fall of shoulders, as he opened his eyes, again breathed in, raising his head to meet Sasuke’s expectant gaze.

 

“Okay, then, that’s...it’s okay.”

 

“...Naruto?”

 

“...you’re okay.”

 

However it involved Orochimaru, whatever it was that worried Naruto enough to actually scare him, to worry even Kyuubi, Sasuke’s best guess is that it’s probably what worried everyone else, too, but it apparently seemed to be yet another one of those things they also didn’t believe he needed to be told.

 

Being kept in the dark about certain matters, the idea that it’s for his own good, it may have been reasonable when he was younger, but he doesn’t think it’ll do him much good in the long run.  It’s not like he can stay secluded forever.  And he doesn’t want to be.  He doesn’t want to have to live in a predetermined bubble for the rest of his life.

 

Some many things are already out of his reach, before he even had a chance to try to pursue anything, all the opportunities he used to look forward to, everything he once wanted to be, taken away from him seemingly overnight, because he was put in a position where he didn’t amount to much more than his status as a life user.

 

He tries not to let that define who he is, although if there’s one thing his life magic and empathy have been good for, it’s the ability to sense another person’s intent, allowing him to discern from emotions what feels right or wrong, so, meeting Orochimaru, while he could recognise the situation for what it was, he knew nothing would happen.

 

And, ultimately, nothing did happen.  Orochimaru didn’t try to do anything.  No reason to think anything else of it.

 

Despite what everyone seems to believe, it’s not like he intentionally ran into Orochimaru.  In actuality, it was Orochimaru apparently searching for him, which was an entirely different issue altogether, but the matter of whether Orochimaru would’ve still approached him if he’d stayed in the room, actually stayed near Naruto like he was supposed to, it’s a moot point, because _nothing happened_.

 

And yet it’s the same point he’s been trying to stress since Naruto brought him to their parents, and told them his version of events, which didn’t do anything to help Sasuke’s case.

 

After returning to Nagi, he still hasn’t been able to convince anyone, least of all his brother, who had his own set of apparent misgivings about the situation, more so due to the fact he wasn’t able to attend the summit; unlike their parents, his presence hadn’t been requested, so it wasn’t his place to make an appearance at such a high profile event, without an invitation hadn’t been extended to him.

 

 Instead, he accepted a mission off world, said he’d being going along with Sai and Neji, two of his friends Sasuke once only knew in passing, but recently reintroduced as safe adults, which was pretty significant because not only were trusted with knowing the extent of Sasuke’s abilities, they were also trusted with knowing about Naruto and Kyuubi, too.

 

Yet his brother’s inability to attend the summit, because Sasuke knows how his brother tends to think, because his brother has always been so adamant in regards to ensuring his safety, although Itachi may not be as apparent about it, in some way, he probably does fault himself for this, but Sasuke didn’t mean to make him worry him.

 

He’s not trying to be a burden.  Lately, however, more and more, it seems like that’s all he’ll ever be.

 

“Why didn’t you stay with Naruto?”

 

“Nii-san, I—”

 

“You were told to stay with Naruto.”

 

“Everything was fine.  I was just—”

 

“Repeatedly.  You were told to stay with Naruto.  Something that’s not new to you, something that shouldn’t even have to be repeated.  And yet you still chose not to listen.”

 

The lack of inflection in his brother’s voice, the lack of expression on his face, there’s nothing to convey what he’s feeling, not even the slightest hint towards the kind of frustrated anger Sasuke had partly been expecting, although the lingering sense of disappointment he can make out in between, that’s far worse than any overt display of emotion.

 

“What difference does it make if nothing happened?  I didn’t even go that fa—”

 

“I don’t want to hear it, Sasuke—that’s not an excuse.  You’re old enough to know better, and I expect better of you.”

 

“Then, why is it always like this?  Everyone’s always making decisions for me, never letting me do anything on my own, so why can’t I just—”

 

“Because you continue with this kind of behaviour.  You continue to engage in this level of immaturity, and you continue to prove yourself irresponsible.”

 

“But how is that irresponsible, if I already I knew nothing would happen?   He wasn’t going to do anything to me—he _didn’t_ do anything.  That guy, Orochimaru—”

 

The mere name brings a cold glint to his brother’s eyes, a cold that has nothing to do with his magic, almost chilling, immediately gives Sasuke pause, brings attention to the hard set of his brother’s jaw.

 

It’s the first time he’s ever seen his brother like this, and that alone speaks volumes.  After a seemingly simple encounter with Orochimaru, that just the mention of Orochimaru’s name could elicit this kind of reaction from his brother, obviously, there’s a reason for it—what everyone’s refusing to tell him, the same topic of discussion that’s already been decided he doesn’t need to know, so he doesn’t even bother to ask.

 

Not this time.

 

His brother’s expression is quick to settle, however, gaze only slightly narrowed, acute, the fine line of his brother’s mouth drawn a little less tight, features turned closer towards indifference, deceptively aloof, giving nothing more away.

 

Arms held at his sides, Sasuke lightly tugs at the front of his jacket, flexes his fingers as the outside of the pocket sleeve slips between the lightweight material of his gloves.  He breathes out, lips pursed, sat on the edge of his low bed, forces himself not to fidget, forces himself to look up into dark eyes that so closely resemble his own.

 

“...with my empathy, with my magic, if I knew something was wrong, I wouldn’t have left the room.  I would’ve stayed closer to Naruto.  Because I would’ve known if—”

 

“No, Sasuke.  You couldn’t have known.  As it is, you still rely entirely too much on your empathy, yet as often as you like to claim, you can’t definitively know these kinds of things.  There is _always_ the possibility that something may go wrong, because there will always remain the possibility that a situation may fall beyond your control, a situation where you may be alone—where I won’t be able to protect you—and I need you to realise the importance of that.”

 

“But I _did_ know.  Because of my magic, I—”

 

“ _Sasuke_.”

 

His life magic, that’s what it always goes back to.  It’s become a point of contention between them, between him and everyone, how much he really does rely on his magic.  Too many times, he’s been accused of being too flippant with his magic, more than once has been told that far too often he takes for granted an apparent ease that even some of the most experienced magic users will never achieve.

 

But as much as he doesn’t want it to define him, he can’t escape the fact that his magic’s become such an intricate part of him, evolved alongside his empathy, how naturally it really does come to him, something he’s not able to help, as instinctive as breathing, as much an involuntary response, within his very being, a state of _existing_ — the way it’s always been, the way he knows it’ll always be, a reassuring constant, his magic simply _is_.

 

Not surprisingly, whenever he does try to explain that aspect of his magic, it doesn’t go over well.  While in general magic is typically described as an extension of its user, when he thinks of his magic, despite having such an abnormal development, he actually struggles to remember a time without it, has trouble describing what it felt like before he even had empathy.

 

Because there are so many things now, things he somehow just seems to _know_ , presented before him, so many once seemingly impossible things, suddenly in his mind the most improbable notions—things that simply are, what he still hasn’t been able to put into words, this inherent awareness of things that have gone, have already come, things that will never pass, and things that have yet to be.

 

It’s always been so easy to succumb to, an ever-present hum, that powerful a compulsion, the more he feels, that much harder to resist the soothing lull of his magic, when it starts to take over him.

 

He’s been told to be more conscientious, not just by Iyashi, over and over already told to try harder, to be more cognisant of what he allows his magic to do.

 

But he’s been trying.

 

He _is_ trying. 

 

So, why can’t anyone see that?

 

Why can’t they understand he just...

 

Before he had magic, no one really knew what to do with him, and now that he has life magic, it’s just a variation of the same thing.

 

But he didn’t ask to be a life user.

 

He didn’t ask for any of this.

 

He never wanted to be _this_.

 

He didn’t want to be...

 

He only wanted to be like his brother, like Naruto, like seemingly every single person around him, people who actually had empathy, who actually had magic—he just wanted to be what he grew up seeing as _normal_.

 

Born into the Uchiha family, coming from a line renowned for having above average empathy and having an exceptional number of magic users, as the second son of Mikoto and Fugaku, as Itachi’s little brother, he’d shown no promise.  By the time he was seven, despite his parents’ and his brother’s attempts to placate him, reassure him there was nothing wrong with not having magic, in the face of his family’s achievements, in the shadow of his brother’s genius, he couldn’t help but feel like a disappointment.

 

The bar had already been set high, and not only did he fall short, he didn’t even have magic.  He was nothing that anyone had been expecting, already written off as a lost cause by some of his extended family, a group of more outspoken relatives who purposely distanced themselves from him—distancing themselves from his mom and dad, too, and even from his brother, referencing his lack of magic to imply disparaging things about them.

 

But at least then it didn’t feel so much like everyone treated him like he was made of porcelain, like they were just waiting, watching with bated breath, anticipating the next time when he’d again break.

 

With Iyashi, he’d been given hope, despite knowing his next empathetic attack was inevitable, only predictable in the sense it was always lurking around the corner, but those sessions helped him believe he wouldn’t have to be like that forever, that his empathy was something he’d eventually be able to overcome—something he thought he did overcome—and it kept him going, no longer out of his reach, this once unthinkable idea that with time things eventually would get better, whatever everybody always kept telling him.

 

After coming so far, to just go back to the way he used to be, he couldn’t do it—he wouldn’t.

 

Not even Naruto knows how bad it used to be.  He may have an idea, may be able to put a lot more things together now, but Sasuke never wanted Naruto to see that part of him, the extent of how much his empathy would affect him, because he didn’t want Naruto to start treating him the way everyone else was.

 

During his early sessions with Iyashi, before Iyashi settled on how to approach teaching him about emotional barriers, most of the exercises they did revolved around helping him develop healthy coping skills, giving him different ways to address his emotions.

 

They practiced a lot of mindfulness, both to increase his mental acuity, and to get him to a place where he’d feel more comfortable outwardly expressing what he felt, because the goal was to assure him it’d be okay to show his emotions.

 

But Sasuke couldn’t stand to let anyone see him cry.

 

After his empathy, that was one of the first things he promised himself, that he wouldn’t cry anymore.

 

Yet it’s a promise he hasn’t always been able to keep.

 

That last time isn’t so far removed, but so many instances, the part of him he tried his best not to let Naruto see, all those times he broke his own promise, when he’d cry seemingly at random, for no apparent reason at all.

 

Like his empathetic attacks, he didn’t know when to expect it.  Unlike his empathetic attacks, though, he wasn’t in any physical pain.

 

Whether it was out of anger, or sadness, or childish frustration, he could never pinpoint where the tears came from, rarely understood it, whenever the emotion did hit, but, in the middle of whatever he’d been doing, he would just stop.  It’d take him a moment to realise at first, when the increasingly familiar burn began to build behind his eyes, churn from the back of his throat, as his vision became less and less clear.

 

He remembers once, during one of his brother’s increasingly less common visits, when the four of them were sat at the table for dinner, eating together like a family again.  One moment he was holding his spoon, smiling at his brother, over something his brother said, and then suddenly he stilled, sat there frozen, gaze lowered as he stared at his soup.

 

The grip of his fingers turned loose, he dropped his spoon.  It missed the bowl, completely missed the table, fell abruptly to the floor, loud enough to startle him, when he realised everyone else’s attention was already on him.

 

As embarrassing as it was for him, it was just as uncomfortable for his parents and his brother, too.  No one knew how to approach him.  No one really knew what to do.  At first, the concern from his parents had felt near drowning, when they immediately came to his side, but they learned to be patient with him.  While he couldn’t expect them to dismiss their concern, he asked if they could just wait for those kinds of moments to pass, because eventually the tears did stop.

 

With the back of his hand, he made a hasty wipe at his face, sniffed, tried to clean up the marks drying along both cheeks, streaked beneath his chin, sniffed again, as he bent down to pick up the spoon that had fallen to the floor.

 

When he sat up, his mom was already prepared, from the extra set of silverware they kept at the table, offering him another spoon.

 

He wasn’t hungry anymore, but his parents were eating again.  His brother was eating again.  Everyone was talking again.  It felt like things had gone back to some semblance of normal.

 

And he’d say he was okay, even if he really wasn’t, but he knew he would be.

 

It happened with his care team, too, even Kushina and Minato a few times, but he never wanted Naruto to see him cry.  Naruto wasn’t allowed to see him like that.  He still can’t let Naruto see him like that—he couldn’t.

 

The act of crying, on its own, he’s knows there’s nothing with wrong it, because he’s even seen Naruto cry before, but with Naruto it’s different.  He doesn’t have life magic.  In fact, he has Kyuubi.  And as sentimental as Naruto is, for him to get emotional, it doesn’t mean the same thing, because that’s just the kind of person he is.

 

Yet even without Kyuubi, even taking into account Naruto’s considerable level of sensitivity, well beyond what’s recorded for his annual Registration, no one would ever think someone like Naruto to be so...

 

He’s not Naruto.  For him to cry, it’s that much more damning, because it means he can’t handle his own emotions.  To be so easily overwhelmed by his empathy, it means what everyone else says about him is true, because it’s the one thing it feels like they’re always expecting him to do.

 

How susceptible he is to his own empathy, how many times he’s already fallen prey to his magic before, despite the strength of his emotional shields, even now, he still has to live with that uncertainty, will always have to live what that uncertainty, because there’s nothing to guarantee another attack won’t happen again.

 

And for what?

 

Having life magic doesn’t bring him any closer to being like his brother.  Even with his elemental magic, he’s nothing like his brother, nothing like Naruto, nothing like seemingly everyone else around him.

 

He doesn’t regret being a life user, wouldn’t trade his magic for anything, but it doesn’t translate into the miraculous feat people want to make it seem.

 

Above anything else, even his shadow magic, healing is what comes most naturally to him.  And yet, in order to heal someone, he has to give his own life force, and that comes with plenty of issues on its own.  Namely the fact he doesn’t have the stamina or reserves to perform consistently the kind of life-saving magic people tend to associate with life users, especially on people his magic isn’t familiar with, and certainly not without the very high risk of killing himself in the process.

 

If Naruto tapping him on the shoulder appeared to be the catalyst for his empathy, then Shisui dying was the catalyst for his life magic.

 

Waking up beside a motionless Shisui, a Shisui unbearably quiet, so frighteningly still, lying on his back, eyes blank staring at the sky, he still doesn’t remember what happened before, how they even ended up by the river—but he remembers think his hands were too small to hold Shisui’s face, even though he didn’t realise what he was trying to do, couldn’t possibly understand, as the warmth was drained from his body.

 

Vaguely, does he remember when his brother appeared, vaguely remembers his brother calling his name, being taken into his brother’s arms, when his brother ripped apart the only link keeping Shisui alive, forcibly pulled him away from a dying Shisui he’d been trying to save.

 

If it weren’t for his brother, if his brother hadn’t found them when he did, if his brother hadn’t intervened, maybe Shisui would still be here.

 

Maybe not.

 

That, he’ll never know, but he does know he would’ve died trying to save him.

 

Although he didn’t fully understand it at the time, didn’t understand why it was getting colder, why it was becoming harder and harder to breathe, he still felt it, some part of him having already accepted it, felt it creeping upon him as he drew closer, after the initial discomfort had passed, a peaceful lull in the back of his mind grown louder, as his body grew colder—because in that moment he only was doing what felt natural to do, following an instinctual pull, compelled to fix the sudden appearance of so many holes and tears outlined throughout the slowly moving paths along Shisui’s body, giving nearly all of his life force to overlay that inherent sense of _wrong_.

 

He wonders sometimes, though, if it were anyone else who’d found them by the river, even his parents, even Naruto, wonders if it would’ve been enough to finally draw his magic away from Shisui, if his magic would’ve latched on to anyone else as quickly, despite the familiarity already there, how his empathy seemed to have responded to his brother near instantaneously, drawn toward his brother’s _hurt_ , the way he reacted instinctively, if that was what ultimately saved him.

 

He was barely alive by then, barely breathing, wrapped in his brother’s jacket, as his brother held him trembling, because his body wouldn’t stop shivering, as his consciousness slipped further away—barely did he register being lifted, his body being moved, barely registered the warmth from the hand placed over his cheek, and yet for the first time felt so clearly his brother’s emotions, the depth of the bond between them, in those few seconds fleeting, could practically hear his brother’s silent pleading.

 

Never before had he seen his brother so afraid, because his brother had always seemed this immovable force, in his eyes this perfect image, a constant source of calm, so often appeared near unflappable, the epitome of everything their family stood for, everything Sasuke still wished he could be.

 

Because he still hasn’t forgotten how close his brother and Shisui were, remembers trying to follow them, being worried his brother no longer had time for him, despite how much Shisui liked to tease him about something so silly, despite how times his brother apologised for having to spend so much away from him, remembers wondering if that meant one day his brother wouldn’t need him

 

Because sometime it feels like he made his brother choose.

 

And sometimes, he can’t ignore the part of him that already knows he’ll never be able to make up for being the one his brother chose.

 

Even if he tried to, he doesn’t think he’d be able to forget the look on his brother’s face that day.

 

But the concern he can read in his brother’s eyes now, it’s a still far cry from devastation he’d actually felt from his brother then, despite the near whisper of his brother’s low timbre, solidified in his mind the anguish in his brother’s eyes, his brother’s gaze torn between them, when Shisui wouldn’t answer, when Shisui wouldn’t _move_.

 

“If I’d known about Orochimaru, I wouldn’t have...”

 

His brother quiets him with a single look, another silent reprimand, but this time Sasuke falters at the flimsy-sounding excuse, as the words leave him, closes his eyes, lowers his head, hands clenched into fists at his sides, pressing into the bed.

 

“Do you not understand the gravity of the situation?  Walking away from Naruto, did it not occur to you, the risk you were taking by willingly placing yourself in that kind of position?

 

“I...”

 

Seemingly odds with everything he’s suffered through, despite how drastically his life has changed, all the things he can no longer do, it really doesn’t occur to him to question his magic.  It’s become a comforting presence, something that’s hard to imagine himself without, because it’s shown him how to be strong in a different way, provided him with a power he could finally call his own.

 

Now that he has that, and he’s in a place where he’s able to do more with it, he just...

 

With how much he’s come to rely on his life magic, because it’s still traditionally a considered passive ability, because he actually prefers his healing and empathy over his elemental magic, he’s still worried about being perceived as incapable of doing certain things.

 

Despite his best efforts, it seems like even Naruto’s started to treat him differently.  The careful way Naruto will look at him sometimes, how much more hesitant Naruto seems about some of the things they’ve always done before,  about the closeness they’ve shared since seemingly forever—of course it gets to him.

 

He may not be allowed to use his elemental magic, not outside of extenuating circumstances, but he’s not defenceless.  Although there aren’t many people his parents have allowed to be close enough to teach him, much less allowed to know about his elemental magic, at the very least, he’s been taught basic combat skills; he knows enough by now to feel comfortable sparring with Naruto, and even with how much Naruto will intentionally hold back, even against Naruto’s magic, he can still hold pretty well his own.

 

Not to mention, his brother’s finally teaching him how to wield a sword.  In between missions, he somehow finds the time to return home, after Sasuke’s private lessons, gradually working towards more intermediate techniques with a practice sword, before he’s ready to move on to the kind of retract sword he could use to channel his elemental magic.

 

That doesn’t make him the most well-versed in self-defence, but it’s a start.  Overall, he still needs to work on increasing his stamina, although he’s been able to work on his coordination, too.  He even gets to put to good use all the technical knowledge about ships he’s picked up, as close he can get to actually flying, borrowing Naruto’s access codes, to clock in his own hours in the flight simulator chamber, the few times he’s been allowed to go so far.

 

Compared to the considerable toll it used to take on him, with his magic and empathy, how useless he once felt, despite the fact he still has to wear his gloves, he’s been making progress.

 

He thought he was making progress.

 

It’s been nearly a year since his last major episode, since Yuna.

 

He still has small episodes here and there, nothing so debilitating, but still those instances where he does have to be more attentive to his surroundings, more wary of the number of people around him, even though that number usually tended to be mostly magic users, because even he knows better than to push the boundaries of the shields he’s carefully built over time.

 

For the most part, though, he hasn’t really needed his brother or Naruto nearby.  Depending on his own emotional barriers, it feels like that’s finally become enough.

 

And yet what happened at Yuna...

 

Out of all his more recent episodes, none of them came even remotely close to the severity of that one, the kind of pain he hadn’t felt in _years_ , without any sort of warning, to be so emotionally overwhelmed, to the point of actually passing out, the sort of empathetic attack he had truly believed was finally behind him—but it felt like he was seven again, during the worst his empathy had ever been, like he’d just gotten it for the first time all over again.

 

He was with his parents, already past the main security gate, looking forward to his first time going off world, even though it was more of a work-related occasion, and they were only visiting a neighbouring sector, suddenly, he just started screaming, collapsed on the spot, made a public spectacle of himself, despite mom’s attempts to calm him, wouldn’t stop screaming until he finally blacked out.

 

His parents ended up having to delay their trip, again ending up having to call his brother while he was in the middle of a mission, although they decided to keep him home, instead of taking him back to Reife.

 

He was out for a while, a few days, and yet even unconscious, he wouldn’t let anyone near him; still being affected by his empathy, he’d flinch if even his care team came too close, on the verge of hyperventilating, nearly drove himself into fits, how violently he reacted to actual touch.

 

His reaction to his parents, that was relatively tame, but it wasn’t until his brother arrived, that his empathy seemed to have stabilised enough for him to wake up.

 

Somehow, before he could fully process that he was back at home, back his own room, he’d already known his brother wasn’t far away— before his eyes were even open, his mind unbearably sluggish, still near consciousness, lying in a large bed, lying beneath thick blankets on top of him piled too many, he already knew his brother was _there_.

 

As he slowly came to, seemingly the only thought in his mind, as awareness came slowly, as the memories began to fall into place, when he opened his eyes, when his hands struggled to shove aside the blankets covering him, when he could finally see—saw his brother asleep, sat in a chair pulled close beside him, a chair that somehow looked too small for him, head lolled to the side, stretched uncomfortably close to his shoulder, and yet the slight movement from the bed was all it took to wake him, as his brother begin to sit up, blinking, fallen from his lips the soft murmur of _otouto_ that immediately compelled Sasuke forward.

 

At the sound of his brother’s voice, he all but ran across the bed, on shaky legs, ran toward the sight of his brother already gone blurry, fell to his hands and knees, nearly fell into the gap between, before he stumbled into arms that were already reaching out to catch him.

 

He attached himself to his brother’s warmth, swathed in a discrete cold that always kept him warm, fingers gripping the back of his brother’s shirt, air taken in through harsh shudders, breaths hitched from his chest, as he tried to keep his brother close, pulling himself closer, hiding his face against his brother’s shoulder.

 

It was suffocating.

 

His own emotions were suffocating.

 

Everything just _hurt_.

 

He didn't want to be that little kid anymore, the one who always needed someone to hold his hand, but he was tired of always, _always_ feeling too much.

 

For a moment, his felt his shields fall, for the briefest second, felt his brother turn stiff, felt him nearly stagger, but his brother didn’t let go.  His brother continued to hold him, pulled Sasuke tighter against him, breath drawn out long with a sigh.

 

His brother didn't ask if he was all right, didn't tell him everything was going to be okay. 

 

But he didn’t need words—he didn’t want words.  For once, he just wanted to be close to his brother, as he closed eyes against the damp material of his brother’s shirt, as he tried to ignore the growing tightness in his chest, found quiet in his brother’s arms that kept him safe, helped keep everything else away, because he couldn’t _keep anything in_.

 

And his brother didn’t say anything, either, just held him, until he exhausted himself back to sleep.

 

The next day, he learned his parents had already made an appointment for him to see Iyashi, but he didn’t want to go.  He didn’t want to talk him, didn’t want to talk to anyone.  He didn’t want to have to feel anything anymore.

 

Naruto even offered to go with him, offered sit on a session like he used to, but Sasuke didn’t want that, either.

 

When Naruto came over, he almost half-expected Naruto to say I told you so, to remind him that he has _reasons_ to worry about him, but Naruto only tried to convince him to see Iyashi.

 

But, like he’d told Naruto, it was humiliating.  And it still is, to a certain extent, because he knows the looks he receives now, the extra care people take around him, seemingly afraid to upset him, he knows a lot of is due to what happened at Yuna, how sensitive he is to his empathy, something he no longer has the luxury of hiding.

 

It was one thing to suffer an attack at home, or at the hospital, when he was confined to the ward, but to experience an episode in public, his magic leaving him that vulnerable, so suddenly exposed...

 

Iyashi put forward the theory that it could’ve been brought on by fluctuating hormones, not dissimilar to sudden uptick in their empathy levels magic users typically experience around his age, although, of course, nothing on Sasuke’s scale.

 

So far, it seems like it was just a fluke.  One unfortunate stroke of bad luck, that’s what everyone keeps saying, that it doesn’t have to be a setback.

 

Yet it was something that had nearly taken everything away from him, at the time, seemed to negate, if not completely undo all the progress he’d made.

 

And for Iyashi to even suggest the onset of hormones could’ve been responsible for such an abrupt episode, that it was enough to throw him so off-kilter, to revert his empathy to its default state, without any barriers, to return him to his already amplified level of sensitivity, it terrified him. 

 

Because he thought he’d finally grown past that.

 

He was supposed to be better by now.

 

Everything’s supposed to be better now.

 

He’s not...

 

“...Sasuke.”

 

He hears his brother shift, listens to the rustle of fabric, as he feels displaced the air in front of him.  Fingers no longer digging into his palms, he relaxes his fists, opens his eyes, slowly raises his head to see his brother kneeled before him.

 

“...that man could’ve _hurt_ you, Sasuke.  He could’ve seriously—”

 

His brother looks away, mouth a firm line, eyes closed.  He breathes in softly, opens his eyes to look at Sasuke.

 

Although the concern’s still there, his brother remains calm, inscrutable, a force once again immovable, his gaze near impenetrable, a stark foil, with an innate sense control over his emotions that rivalled, if not surpassed Sasuke’s own—after all this time, this image of his brother still seemingly infallible, everything Sasuke already knows he’ll never be.

 

Dark eyes begin to soften, reflect the gentle side of his brother he’s always known, as he’s gathered in his brother’s arms, held carefully to his close brother’s chest.

 

"Nii-san, I..."

 

But there’s nothing wrong with his empathy. 

 

“Sasuke.”

 

There’s nothing wrong with his magic.

 

“I just...”

 

Because there’s nothing wrong with him.

 

He feels his body sag, lets himself sink further into the familiarity of his brother’s cold that somehow always manages to leave him warm.  He closes his eyes, slowly raises his arms to return his brother’s embrace, reaches out with his empathy, fingers clutching the back of his brother’s jacket, his voice a soft murmur against his brother’s shoulder, as he tries to reassure him the only way he knows how.

 

“...I’m fine."


End file.
